Awakening: A Personal Tumult
by The Wistful Bloom
Summary: On an uneasy precipice stands a prince of exalted blood, newly burdened in the ascension and fracas of two kingdoms. Accompanying him is his able tactician- a woman with no recollection of her past. Fate's designs are cruel, and unjust, but their scripted fate is one they cannot allow. Yet the fell, the grim, seems inevitable; and the only hope for these pawns is to prevail.
1. Fate's Hand

**oh, sweet lord. i have jumped aboard the bandwagon, and have found myself treading in dangerous waters. (this has been ultra fun so far, but my 3DS seems to disagree, sodding jumpy battery!). basically speaking, i'm going to be writing a novelization of my own, personal playthrough of awakening. this is going to be horribly long and all !AND WILL INCLUDE GAME SPOILERS!, so please bear with me. character death can and will happen, my pairings are final ( i thINK?), and i really can't fit all i have to say into my A/N. if you have any other queries regarding this fic, there will be a link to a longer blog post on my profile. there will be angst and long chapters (not including this one, ha ha!) and all of that jazz. so yes, here, have at it.**

* * *

**prologue**

**fate's hand**

* * *

The prince swung Falchion again, the sorcerer narrowly avoiding the blade. He made to throw another hex, but Chrom parried the blow.

Her back against a pillar, the prince's tactician swigged from her vial of concoction, eyes on the fight. She tossed the glass vial to the floor, her wounds searing as they began to heal.

She raised her hand, running from behind her cover.

"Chrom!" She shouted, ready to hurl a large ball of lightning. "Out of the way!"

No sooner had she shouted, the sorcerer had disappeared. The Ylissean prince, sweat on his brow, suddenly looked skywards.

"Up there!"

Validar, elevated, enveloped in a shroud of dark magic, sent a powerful blast of magic towards them. The blow struck the ground, throwing the two heroes back. Chrom dived away from the blast just in time.

Eponis, teeth gritted, was able to hurtle a spike of bright magic at him before collapsing against one of the hall's pillars.

"You fools!" Validar howled, once again disappearing out of sight.

Chrom hoisted himself up from the floor, using Falchion to steady himself.

"Eponis!" The green-haired tactician smiled at him, wiping bloody spittle from her mouth. Her head throbbed something terrible, fingers vaguely damp as they assessed the damage.

She staggered to her feet, shouting as the prince made to run to her. "No, Chrom!"

"Die!" Validar shrieked.

Chrom, running towards his tactician, suddenly turned to face the sorcerer. Another large ball of dark energy hurtled towards them.

Eponis, having drunk the last of her potions, saw no other choice but to face the blow head on. She readied her Thoron, determination shining in her eyes.

She began to mutter an incantation, bolts of energy flickering in her palm. Before she could strike something slammed into her side- the two of them grunting as they hit the floor. The hex spiralled over their heads.

Chrom helped his tactician up from the ground. "This is it. Our final battle." He rested his hands on her shoulders, urging her to meet his gaze.

They'd almost seen this through.

"Hiding, my dear?" Validar asked, voice resonating throughout the hall. His laugh bellowed through the building, tone grim. "Come out, you cowards!"

"You're one of us, Eponis." Chrom told her, "no 'destiny' can change that."

She nodded, face set.

"Let's kill this dastard, and be done with it."

"Ha ha ha!" Validar guffawed, his red gaze settling on them. "You fools! Struggle all you want!"

Chrom's tightened his grip on Falchion, the pair striding towards the sorcerer once again. "You cannot unwrite that which is already written!"

"I'll cover you." Eponis muttered to the blue-haired prince, readying her tome once again.

Chrom surged towards Validar, Falchion raised above his head. The sword struck him, causing the sorcerer to howl in pain as he staggered backwards. He growled, shouting an archaic spell.

The green-haired tactician shoved Chrom away from the danger, the ball of energy crumpling the pillar behind them. Chrom ran towards the sorcerer again, plunging his sword into his chest.

Validar's pained shouts resonated through the hallowed walls, falling to his knees.

"What... have you-" His breath hitched, expression wild.

He reached for the wound, fingers wet with blood. Gasping, he fell to the ground in a fog of purple smoke.

The Ylissean prince turned to Eponis, smiling- relieved.

"This isn't over! Damn you both!" Validar shouted, startling them both. In a haze of murky smoke and magic, Validar threw one final spell.

Chrom turned back to his tactician, frowning at her watery gaze.

She had to do it.

She dived forwards, pushing Chrom out of the way. He gaped at her, her brown eyes brimmed with tears.

The spell connected and she was thrown backwards, her body smacking against the cold tiled floor.

"Eponis! No!" Chrom cried out.

Validar, once again crumpled on the ground, had said his last.

Chrom rushed to his tactician's side, kneeling before her. His eyes frantically searched her bruised face, her cheeks wet with tears.

"Look at me." He whispered, taking her into his arms.

Her body was limp, lifeless as he brushed the hair from her eyes.

"You can't die. You _can't_."

Her skin was pale, pallid and awash with the pain. Her eyes, beset by long, thick eyelashes, slowly- finally- fluttered open. She smiled weakly at him, gaze soft and fatigued.

Chrom gasped quietly, relieved.

His face came into her view, yet the corners of her vision swirled with a dark, murky fog. She groaned, clutching her head.

"That's the end of him." The prince said, quietly, helping her up.

Her gaze flashed red, vein-like sparks searing her eyes.

"Thanks to you, we carried the day. We can rest easy now." He sighed, exhausted, but his voice was barely audible to her. "At long last."

She yelped in pain, almost doubled over from the force of it. He touched her arm, gingerly, frowning at her silence. "What's wrong?"

She struggled with another onslaught of the pain, her tears brimming anew.

"Eponis? Hey, hang on-"

He stopped short, gasping, eyes wide.

He stumbled backwards, staring down at the bolt of lightening embedded in his chest.

He gazed back up at his tactician, his friend, tears streaming down her face.

Eponis lifted her hand, static still pulsating through her palm. She looked back to Chrom, sobbing as he clutched his wound, blood beginning to soil his gloved hand.

"This is..." He stopped, breath coming hard to him. "This is not your... fault."

She couldn't speak, crying noisily as the prince fell to his knees.

She'd killed him. She'd murdered him.

"Promise me, Eponis." He said, finding it hard to keep his resolve, "promise me you'll escape from this place."

She began to move forwards, barely able to say his name as she sniffled. He held up his hand, urging her to stay in place.

"_Please_." His tone was harsh, commanding. "Go!"

He glanced up at her again, for the last time, before falling to the ground.

Eponis fell to her knees, light-headed and weak. She gazed back down at her hands.

The hands that had felled Ylisse's prince.

The red, searing pain tore through her body again. She clutched her head, sobbing still.

And then, gazing upon the body of the blue-haired prince, she began to laugh through her tears.

She threw her head back, able to see nothing but red.

Bloodshed. Murder.

In the wake of the battle she sat alone, a murderer laughing before her victim, his blood still warm.

It could be nothing more than the laugh of a murderer. A sick, unearthly, victorious laugh.

And it was hers.


	2. Accosted Slumber

**ah um so hi again! i exceeded my word count like by a lOT like when i said they were going to be horribly long i overshot my 'horribly' and continue to dig my word-y grave. oops. (okay, only by a few thousand, but it's going to get worse as I go on.) *sighs into hands* well, that's me out. thank you.**

* * *

**chapter one**

**accosted slumber**

* * *

Lissa and her brother leant over the unconscious figure on the ground. She gazed down at the green-haired woman, brow furrowed. "Chrom, we have to do _something._"

He looked at her, raising a brow. "What do you propose we do?"

She turned to him, stuttering, "W-Well, I... I dunno-"

There was a groan from below, the stranger beginning to stir. She gazed up at the two of them, still groggy.

"I see you're awake now." The prince said, smiling as he leant over her.

"Hey, there!" The blonde giggled softly, her smile reassuring.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." The blue-haired youth said, tone playfully sarcastic. He offered his hand to her. "Come, give me your hand."

She grabbed it, grip feeble, and he pulled her to her feet. As she rose, she caught sight of the back of her hand. Said hand was emblazoned with a strange pink symbol, the sight of it filling her with unease. Fearing their reaction, she was quick to hide her hand under the sleeve of her cloak.

"You all right?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

She met his gaze, smiling in spite of her predicament. "Y-Yes," she replied, nodding, "thank you, Chrom."

Chrom shared a brief look with his sister, bemused, "Ah, then you know who I am?"

She frowned, as if trying to recall something.

"No, actually..." She held a hand to her head, "I... It's _strange._ Your name. It just... _came to me_."

Briefly, subtly, Chrom shared another quizzical look with Lissa. "How curious." He said, choosing his words carefully. "Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?"

"My name is... It's..." She frowned again, drawing a blank. "I'm..."

She sighed, defeated.

"You don't know your own name?" Chrom asked, regarding her cautiously.

The green-haired stranger looked around herself, still frowning as she looked over the woodlands. "I'm not sure I... I'm sorry, but... where am I, exactly?"

Lissa gasped, suddenly, grabbing her brother's arm. "Hey, I've heard of this!" She told him. He looked down at her, brow raised. "It's called amnesia!"

There was a sudden tut from behind them, the stranger most startled of all. "It's called a load of pegasus dung." A heavily-armoured knight muttered, patting his horse. He turned to the stranger, gaze wary. "We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?"

She stuttered, perhaps taken aback by his heavy gaze. "B-But, it's the truth!"

His reprimanding stare seemed to burn.

Chrom turned to the knight, sighing. "What if it _is _true, Frederick? We can't just leave her here; alone and confused." Frederick bristled, demeanour not changing in the slightest. "What sort of shepherds would we be then?"

"All the same, milord," Frederick began, tone softer, "I must emphasise caution. 'Twould not do to let a wolf into our flock."

Chrom turned back to the stranger, decided.

"Right, then. We'll take her back to town, and sort this out there."

The amnesiac spluttered, "J-Just a moment! Don't I have a say in this?"

"Peace, friend." Chrom said, smiling at her, "We'll hear all you have to say back in town. Now, come."

Frederick seated himself back astride his horse, taking up the rear of the group. Chrom led them, his sister close at hand. Stuck between the three of them, the stranger sighed, resolving to keep out of Frederick's way- and perhaps out of trouble's, too.

The skies above them were blue, and scattered with clouds. Their footsteps against the dirt path were the only sound for a good, long while.

"What will you do with me?" She asked, tone forlorn, "am I to be your prisoner?"

Chrom laughed, good-naturedly, "You'll be free to go, once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

She gazed around her, at the vast woodland she'd woken up in. "Is that where we are, Ylisse?" She asked, as the group continued to march forwards.

"You've never heard of the halidom?" Frederick asked, riding alongside her. He glanced down at her, gaze disapproving. "Someone pay this actress, she plays quite the fool!" He sneered, lowering his tone, "the furrowed brow is _especially_ convincing..."

"Frederick, please." Chrom called, turning back to the two of them. He turned his attention to the stranger. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. And our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt." Considering how little he had told her, especially with her apparent amnesia, Chrom resolved to put things straight.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order. My name is Chrom- but, then, you already knew that." He gestured to the girl, the blonde in the yellow dress, "the delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

She seemed to take offence, folding her arms indignantly. "I am _not_ delicate!" Lissa followed with a loud 'hmph', but then smiled at their new friend. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes."

Chrom replied with a hearty 'Hah!', and Lissa beamed.

"But you're lucky the Shepherds found you!" Her expression turned dour. "Brigands would have been a rude awakening."

The amnesiac frowned, quizzical.

"Shepherds?" She glanced from Frederick to Chrom, "you tend sheep..? In... full armour?"

Chrom chortled bemusedly, "It's a dangerous job." He nodded to the mounted knight. "Just ask Frederick the Wary here."

The humour was somewhat lost on the brunette, who looked every last bit as thunderous as they continued onwards. "A title I shall wear with pride," he declared with conviction. "Gods forbid _one of us_ keeps an appropriate level of caution." He glanced down at their acquaintance, who was watching her feet as they walked.

"I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

She lifted her gaze, nodding. "I understand, sir. I would do no less myself."

She returned her gaze to the dirt path before them, uneasy.

Naught to go on but the name of another, and that itself may have just landed her in more trouble.

Suddenly, eyes bright, she perked up.

"Eponis." She said, beaming.

Chrom turned to her, brow raised.

"My name," she explained, "my name is Eponis."

Chrom smiled back at her.

"Eponis..." He said, as if trying the name on his tongue. "Is that foreign?"

Oh, she hardly knew. Her name had solved one mystery, but she dreaded to think how many others she had to uncover.

"Ah, well," Chrom began as she dropped her head- silent. "We can discuss it later." He surveyed the woodland ahead, the group coming to a knoll of sorts.

"We're almost to town. Once we-"

"Chrom, look!" Lissa cried, pointing ahead, "the town!"

The three of them followed her gaze, to a town just beyond the hill. Smoke billowed from the razed buildings, the whole town ablaze.

"Damn it!" Chrom swore, teeth gritted. "Brigands, no doubt." His hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword.

"Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!"

The great knight turned to their accosted amnesiac. "What about her?"

"Unless she's on fire as well, it can wait!" He barked, eyes on the town.

"Aptly put, milord." Frederick replied, abashed.

Lissa tugged at her brother's arm. "Let's go already!"

Without another word between them, the three of them set off down the hill. Eponis, dazed, watched them as they ran off.

"But, what about-" She sighed, arms falling to her sides. As it fell, her arm hit something hard beneath her cloak. Puzzled, brow furrowed, she inspected it, to find a bronze sword sitting in its scabbard. She removed it, feeling the weight of the blade in her hand.

She swung, experimentally, and found the motion effortless. The tang of the blade seemed to agree with her.

She sheathed her sword, and as she did she felt another weight in her cloak. She delved into it, unearthing a yellow book. A spell tome.

She brushed her fingers over the cover, the feel familiar and welcome. Her palm tingled, expectant. She suddenly looked back to the dirt path, and then to the razed town. She tucked the book under her arm and set off in pursuit of the others.

The town itself was chaotic and frantic, Garrick's band of ruffians merciless.

"Get to it, lads!" He shouted, hand full of coin. He laughed gruffly, axe brandished. "Grab anything shiny, and put the rest to the torch! We gots and example to set for these _Ylissean_ types!" A maiden, caught in the frantic struggle, offered her measly pouch of gold. She'd be destitute, but hopefully alive.

Garrick guffawed, grabbing her arm instead. "Ain't that right, lass?"

She shrieked, petrified. "Please! Someone, help!" She struggled against him, his gaze roving over her figure.

She sobbed, prising her arm free.

"You'll fetch me some good coin, you will." He rasped, smirk horribly wide.

"Chrom, we have to stop them!" Lissa shouted to her brother, the three of them having reached the southern corner of the marketplace.

"Don't worry, Lissa." Chrom replied, drawing Falchion from its sheath. "After today, these bandits won't be bothering anyone ever again."

Out of breath, panting frantically as she stumbled down the hillside, appeared Eponis. "Chrom, wait!" She called, the youth turning to face her.

"Eponis!" He shouted, surprised. "You followed us? Why!?"

She came to a halt before them, breath shallow. "I... I'm not certain myself." She held her thunder tome in her hands, grip firm. "But I'm armed. And I know my way around a fight, if you'll have me."

He nodded. "Of course. Strength in numbers." He watched as she unsheathed her sword. "I see you wear a sword. Is it-"

Eponis offered it to Frederick. "I trust you'd have better use of it than me."

He took it, gladly.

Chrom watched as she began to flick through the pages of her book, muttering, and her free palm began to glow with sparks of light. "Wait, is that a tome? You know magic?"

She looked up at him, spell lost, glow gone.

"I... believe so?" Her apparent unease did little to reassure him.

"You _believe_ so?" He gawked, but had little time to say much else when Lissa piped up.

"Chrom, they've seen us!" She held her staff protectively over her chest, drawn into herself. The group turned.

A group of bandits approached, weapons readied.

Chrom stood, sturdy, Falchion raised.

"Remember, Eponis," Frederick warned her, "We face practised thieves and murderers." From across the market stalls a ruffian seemed to single her out, and she visibly wavered. "They will grant us no quarter. It's kill or be killed."

She surveyed the enemy, mind working overtime. Her strategy was decided in an instant.

"Chrom, with me!" She shouted, the two of them moving forwards. She muttered what she could remember of her spell, hurling a small ball of magic at the swordsman before ducking behind one of the market stalls.

Frederick rode close to the next stall, an axe-wielding ruffian in his sights. Lissa, uneasy, frayed near the edges of the fight.

Weighing up the tactician and the great knight, the barbarian ran for Eponis and Chrom, his axe biting into her arm. She staggered back, bleeding, but Chrom run him through before any more damage could be done.

The myrmidon, no longer halted by their cover, came rushing forwards. His blade nicked her shoulder, drawing blood, but their proximity allowed her to thrust a more powerful bolt straight into his chest. He crumpled, dead.

"Lissa! Over here!" Chrom shouted, his sister quickly at their side. She began to heal Eponis' wounds, the amnesiac's eyes on the fight. A mage approached from the bridge, hurling a blast of wind magic. The blast caught the market stall they were positioned behind, wood and splinter narrowly missing them.

"We'll go in for the kill. Lissa, stay here." Eponis readied her tome, Chrom close behind her. Lissa, as told, meekly peered over the crates of fruit.

"Frederick, stay close!" Eponis called as she and Chrom faced the mage. She hurled another bolt, hitting him, and he retaliated with a weakly slung spell of his own. She staggered back, wincing. Chrom watched her, concerned, but she returned the hit twofold, killing the mage.

"I'm fine." She turned to Lissa, who was ready to run from her cover. "Stay put!" She shouted, unaware of the myrmidon striding across the bridge.

He swung, shouting, but Chrom parried his blow, pushing him back. He growled, ready to attack again, but much too late. No sooner had he raised his sword, Chrom slashed with Falchion, the fighter falling to the stone ground, his clothes stained with blood.

"We'll have to hold them back." Eponis reasoned, worried for Lissa. "Frederick, ride on ahead. Save the girl."

He nodded and surged ahead, the last of the ruffians closing in on Chrom and Eponis. Lissa watched on, near terrified.

Garrick, noticing Frederick, barked out another grizzly laugh. "Here, sheepy sheepy!" He called, laughing. "Come to the slaughter!"

The maiden, sobbing at his feet, made to make her escape. Frederick raised Eponis' sword, his calculating eyes on the ruffian. "We're no sheep!" He yelled, narrowly avoiding the bandit's hand axe as it came whirling overhead. Frederick stabbed him, swiftly, Garrick's body tumbling towards the crawling maiden. She gave a cry, kicking him away.

Frederick dismounted his steed, striding towards her. She yelped, sobbing.

"Now, now." He said, voice soft. "You're quite safe, milady." He offered her his hand, helping her to her feet.

Lissa came running forwards. "Are you okay? Do you need healing!?"

Frederick, worried, glanced at the marketplace. The group of bandits- with a final blow from Chrom- were finished. Lissa fawned distractedly over the maiden.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She shook her head, no, and then suddenly curtsied. "No, milady. Oh, dear, my manners-"

"Hey, there's no need for that!" Lissa said. "You're just lucky that we were close by."

Chrom and Eponis joined them, the two of them fine aside from a few little scratches. "Holy wow, Eponis!" Lissa beamed, running towards them. "You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, _and _strategy." Eponis' cheeks flushed at the heavy-handed compliment. "Is there anything you _can't _do?"

"You're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure." Chrom added.

"Indeed," Frederick noted, watching her warily, "perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?"

"I understand your scepticism, Sir Frederick." She began, apologetically, "And I cannot explain why only some knowledge has returned to me. But, _please_- believe me. I have shared all that I know."

"You fought to save Ylissean lives." Chrom said, wincing as Lissa healed his arm. "My heart says that's enough."

"And your mind, milord? Will you not heed its counsel as well?" He meant well, but Chrom sighed at his lieutenant.

"Frederick, the Shepherds could use someone with her talents. We've brigands and unruly neighbours, each looking to bloody our soil." He allowed himself a sidewards glance at the green-haired tactician. "Would you really have us lose such an able fighter? And tactician?"

She blushed, flattered. Lissa offered her a vulnerary, which she swigged as heartily as she could. She blanched at the taste.

"Besides," Chrom continued, "I believe her story, odd as it may be."

"Th-Thank you." Her mouth was horribly bitter, but in moments her wounds were barely there at all.

"So, how about it?" He asked, "Will you join us, Eponis?"

"I... I would be honoured." She said, mostly relieved that Frederick wasn't glaring at her so. If looks could kill, she supposed.

"Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent." Frederick noted, eyes on the bodies in the marketplace.

"Plegian?" Eponis asked, quizzical.

"Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbour." Chrom explained. "They send small bands into our territory, hoping to instigate a war."

"And it's always the poor townsfolk who suffer!" Lissa added, "totally innocent, and totally helpless..." She watched as people began to peer out of their homes, beset and begone by the chaos.

"They do have us, milady." Frederick told her. "Shepherds, to protect the sheep."

She agreed with a nod of her head, glumly.

"I suppose I'll get used to all this." Lissa muttered.

Chrom himself had argued that the last place for Lissa was the battlefield- and the two of them had been extremely tooth and nail about the entire business- but in the end Lissa had prevailed. Now, seeing the damage and the ruin, so frequently and vividly, she was beginning to see why Chrom had been so against the idea.

"Milord, please!" One of the townsfolk called, running across the bridge to meet them. "You must stay the night! We are simple folk, of simple means- but we would gladly toast your valour with a feast."

Frederick turned to the villager, expression that of gratitude. "A most generous offer, sir, and we wouldn't doubt that your hospitality would be grand. But I'm afraid we must hurry back to Ylisstol."

Lissa, having tuned out at the word 'feast', had already listed her bedding arrangements, and had now moved onto food. "... Dark meat only for me, medium well. Oh, and no salt in the soup! I simply-" Her face fell, and she turned to Frederick. The proverbial penny had dropped.

"Wait, what?! We're not staying?! But-" She gazed up at the skyline, to the reddening glow of the sun, "Frederick, it's nearly dark!" She protested.

Frederick merely smiled at her. "When the night falls, we'll camp. Eat off the land, make our bed of twigs and the like..." He glanced pointedly at her. "I believe you mentioned you would be '_getting used to this_'?"

"Frederick?"

"Yes, milady?"

"Sometimes I hate you."

He chuckled quietly as she sulked, arms folded.

"You've quite the stern lieutenant." Eponis muttered to Chrom, the two of them amused with Lissa's small tantrum.

"Yeah, well, '_stern'_ is one name for it." Lissa huffed. "I can think of a few others!"

"Frederick only smiles when he's about to bring down the axe." Chrom told Eponis, and she stifled a laugh.

"Duly noted." She replied.

Frederick, perturbed, cleared his throat loudly. "You do realise I _am _still present?"

Chrom chuckled. "Oh, we realise."

Lissa abandoned her stupor to allow herself a small 'pfft!'.

"Milord remains as amusing as ever." Frederick said dryly, lips pursed. "Now, then. Shall we be going?"

"All right, all right." Chrom amended. "Ready to go, Eponis? The capital isn't far."

She nodded, smiling, as the group set off from Southtown.

* * *

West of Ylisstol, the forest canopy shrouded the pathways in darkness. The stars, hanging overhead, were licked at by passing clouds- the sky velveteen and admonishing.

"I told you!" Lissa huffed, walking close to Frederick's horse. "It's getting dark already! And now the bugs are out..." She grumbled, paranoid. "Noisy, disgusting bugs, that buzz around and- and crawl all over, and bite you when-" Lissa suddenly wheezed, doubled over, spluttering and coughing.

The company stopped, watching her, exchanging worried glances.

"Won goph in mah mouph!" She managed between hacks.

Chrom sighed, trying to suppress his smile. "Come now, Lissa. Hardship builds character."

She wiped her mouth, pouting. "I think I swallowed it."

"We should probably think about food. I don't know about you, but I'm _starving_." Eponis piped up, her stomach growling in agreement.

"Yes, I should think a little hunting and gathering is in order." Frederick added, getting down from his horse. "Want to help me gather firewood, Lissa?" Chrom asked. She shook her head, still coughing. "I'll pass. I think I've built _quite _enough character for one day!"

"I suppose we should clear a campsite, Eponis?"

"R-Right." She replied, somewhat surprised. He'd barely addressed her by name since she'd woken up in the field. His smile was disarming, too- in retrospect of his earlier glaring and scowling.

"Come, Lissa." Chrom reached out for his sister. "We know how Frederick gets without a good fire." Lissa sighed, following her brother into the underbrush.

She could hear crickets as they walked, which did little to improve her mood.

"Twigs and the like, that'll do." Chrom said, having found a sizeable branch. Lissa began to collect a few stray twigs and small branches, sluggish. Chrom walked on ahead, and Lissa sighed, shoulders sagging.

"My, that was a big one!" He laughed, turning back to her. She'd hoped he wouldn't hear. "Something on your mind, Lissa? Or are you just sighing for the sheer joy of it?"

She shrugged, bundling her assortment into his outstretched arms.

"Well, it's just... do I..." She fumbled around her words, tugging a loose branch from the low bough of a tree. "Do I... seem like a princess to you?"

"How's that?" Chrom asked, having walked on ahead.

"I'm asking if I seem like a princess!" She shouted back, hands on her hips.

"Well if you aren't, you owe us some rent for your room in the castle..." He joked, but Lissa did little else but take offence, turning her nose up at him.

"Oh, hardy har! That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Chrom wondered if this was about her brand. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd mentioned it, in confidence.

"What brought this on?" He asked, leaning down to allow her to pile another handful of sticks into his arms.

"When I compare myself to you and Emmeryn..." She mumbled, "I... I feel like a dead weight."

Chrom sighed, harshly. "What a stupid thing to say."

"Hey!" She grumbled, frowning at him.

"Well? It's the truth. You're fine just how you are, Lissa."

She looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled.

"Give yourself a little credit." He cleared his throat, turning back to the path they had followed. "We better get back to Frederick and Eponis. Come on, Lissa."

He hurried away, Lissa hot on his heels. "That was a lazy answer, and you know it!" Chrom bristled, but didn't upset his pace. "Fine, run away!" She threw her arms up in frustration.

"I hope you trip and break your nose, jerkface!" Chrom turned to her, gaze reprimanding. "Okay, okay... So that might not have been _completely_ princess-like."

As they approached the campsite there was a sudden yell, and a loud roar. "Kill it! Kill it!" Chrom and Lissa shared a look, concerned, and hurried back to their friends. As they came back out of the underbrush they could see a rather bedraggled looking tactician and great knight, both grimly staring at their kill.

A large bear lay at their feet.

Frederick beamed at the two of them, fondly regarding their game. "Dinner."

* * *

"It's been too long since I last had bear meat." Chrom said, wolfing down what he could. "Delicious."

Lissa looked down at her own helping, stomach uneasy.

"What's wrong, Lissa?" She gave her brother a venomous glare, opting to watch the fire before them. The twigs crackled, embers being carried away on the breeze. "Why couldn't you spear us an animal _normal _people eat for once?" Lissa asked, not at all happy. She wished they'd stayed the night in Southtown. "I mean, come on! Who eats bear?! You're meddling with the food chain." She pushed her helping of bear away, folding her arms.

"Right, Eponis?"

A fellow lady would agree with her.

"Uh, Eponis?"

Lissa glanced over at her, to see her forcing down as much as possible, seemingly content.

Lissa turned away, fingers toying with blades of grass. "I suppose a person would enjoy just about anything, after not eating for days." She mumbled.

Chrom watched his sister, and sighed.

"Just eat it, Lissa. Meat is meat." He told her, still chewing.

She looked sourly at her brother.

"Since when does meat smell like old boots?!" She grumbled. "Wait, I take that back- boots smell better!"

Frederick chuckled at her behaviour.

"Every experience makes you stronger, milady." He told her. "Even those we don't enjoy."

Lissa watched him, and then allowed herself a small chuckle of her own. "_Really_? Then why don't I see _you _eating, Frederick?"

Caught out, sheepish, Frederick tried to get away with a smile.

"Me? Oh, well... I'm not all that hungry. I... I had a large lunch! Yes, quite."

Lissa rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah right, Frederick!"

* * *

In the small hours of the morning, their fire was nothing more than embers. Chrom, distressed, woke with a start.

He rose to his feet, hand edging towards Falchion. Lissa yawned, murmuring her discontent.

She gazed up at him, rubbing her eyes.

"What's wrong, big brother?" She asked, voice sleepy.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Chrom muttered. "Something is... amiss."

Lissa sat herself up, yawning. "Define..." She yawned again, "_something_."

"I'm not sure, Lissa. I think I'll have a look around."

She slowly got to her feet, brushing her hands over her dress. "Not alone, you won't! I'm coming too." She followed him, staff in hand.

"Thanks, Lissa." He murmured, the two of them pacing quietly under the canopy of trees.

"It sure is dark," she said, gaze wary, "... and quiet. Where did the birds go?" She watched her brother, his eyes on the gloomy overcast of the sky.

"Something is wrong." Chrom's eyes flitted around them, hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.

The trees, abandoned by their nocturnal residents, shook still. The branches swayed, and Chrom frowned.

Suddenly, without warning, the ground shook before them, the roar thunderous. Lissa shrieked, grabbing Chrom around his middle.

"Gods, what-"

The violent tremors of the earth shook them, the two of them shaky on their feet.

"What is this madness?"

The roaring breeched, and Lissa buried her head in his chest, afraid.

"Lissa, _run!" _He pushed her away from him, urging her to move. "I mean it! Go!"

The trees, roots upset by the shaking, began to tumble. Chrom grabbed Lissa's hand, pulling her along with him as they ran through the collapsing woodland. They narrowly escaped a tumbling trunk, and then, with another deafening blast, the ground began to crack before them.

A large wall of fire- spitting and ominous- threw itself up. Lissa watched, wide eyed, paralysed.

"Hey, this way!" Chrom shouted, pulling her back, and the two of them sprinted forwards.

Chrom leapt, diving over another fallen tree. Lissa, close behind, jumped after him with a small yelp.

They bowled down the steep hill, stumbling and rolling as they went. At the bottom, panting, Chrom helped Lissa to her feet. The woods were ablaze, the night sky now glowing a murderous red. Large balls of fire came hurtling through the sky, adding to the calamity.

Lissa doubled over, panting, clutching her knees.

A sudden light, blinding, caught her attention.

"Chrom, what is that?" She pointed towards it, Chrom turning towards the glow. The brilliant light was beset by large circles, each made up of strange, archaic symbols. The light, coming to a zenith, became an object.

An eye, glowing blue, blinked at them. From the glowing iris came figures, rippling the blue surface. Inordinate beings, groaning wickedly as they slipped from the portal and fell to the ground below.

"Lissa, you better stand back." Chrom said to her, holding an arm out protectively. She complied, staying behind him. The crumpled forms rose from the ground, their words unearthly. Chrom drew Falchion from its sheath; eyes on the monsters.

Their eyes glowed a devious red, their roars bellowing with a smog of black smoke. The first raced forwards, leaping for the prince with its axe raised.

Chrom slashed through its chest, Falchion cleanly swiping through its body. It froze, silent, and Chrom turned back to it, startled. Its head, neck groaning in argument, twisted to face him. With another roar it swung its axe for Chrom, and he barely parried the blow in time. He threw it off, pushing it away. The monster stumbled to the ground, and Chrom finished it off with a shout, stabbing it.

Defeated, the monster howled, beginning to recede in another cloud of smog.

The prince panted, getting back on his feet.

His sister screamed, another of the creatures closing in on her.

Chrom turned with a start, Lissa backed up against a rocky outcrop. "Lissa!"

She held her staff out in front of her, shuddering as the red eyes of the creature bore into her own. It raised its weapon, roaring at her.

From the portal came another hand, reaching out- yet it belonged to no monster. Tumbling to the ground, the youth came running forwards, dashing to the princess.

Somehow, miraculously, he managed to halt the creature's blade before Lissa could be hit.

She opened her eyes, having expected death, and yelped at the person before her. His sword was slung over his back, struggling to stay the axe.

Chrom, having been ready to save his sister, watched on- perplexed.

"H-Help!" The masked hero shouted, and Chrom nodded, joining the fray. As Chrom approached, swinging Falchion, the other used the monster's surprise to their advantage. It turned to Chrom, attention divided, and the two swords came ripping through its chest.

Lissa, shaken, watched the monster disappear in thick smoke. Chrom sheathed his sword, turning to the masked vigilante.

"That was... quite an entrance. What's your name?"

The hero, in turn returning his sword to its sheath, shook his head. "This is not the time for names."

Frederick and Eponis, astride Frederick's horse, came galloping towards them. "Milord! Milady! Are you hurt?"

Chrom and Lissa turned to the other two, Lissa on the verge of tears. "Frederick! Eponis!"

Eponis jumped down, readying her spell tome.

"We're fine." Chrom assured him.

Frederick let out a kept breath.

"No one is injured, then? Thank the gods."

"Thank the masked man who saved me!" Lissa began, "If it wasn't for him, I'd be..." She frowned, turning her head this way and that. "Hey, where did he go?" He was gone, lost in the darkness, having slipped away without a word.

The monsters, red eyes glowing ominously in the dark, came stumbling through the underbrush.

"We can worry about him later. _After _we put these... _things_... to the blade."

Eponis, unnerved, watched as they approached.

"Are such horrific creatures commonplace in these lands?"

"They're not from Ylisse." Chrom told her, sword at the ready, "I promise you that."

"Eyes open, now." Frederick warned them, "We know nothing about this enemy."

Eponis looked ahead, vying for any advantages. "Hmm... Are those-"

"Abandoned forts, yes."

"We'll take shelter in the nearest fort. Frederick, I'll ask you to ride on ahead- scout for numbers."

He took his horse's reigns, nodding his compliance. "Right away."

* * *

"Sully, are you sure?" The red-haired cavalier brushed off her concern, scoffing as she adjusted her saddle.

"Somethin' just doesn't seem right. You worry too much, Sumia."

The pegasus knight, shyly twirling Sully's lance, nodded in agreement. She handed Sully her lance, the cavalier astride her horse.

"Don't worry the others, ya hear?" Sumia didn't look any less concerned.

"Be carefully, Sully." She said, as way of goodbye, and walked back towards the garrison.

Sully sighed, tugging at her horse's reigns, and set off down the cobble stones.

"Hold, milady!"

She turned, horse whinnying its protest. She brushed a hand over its mane, glancing down at the approaching figure.

"Life may be long, but attraction if fleeting! Would you leave me in your sweet dust?" The man- some dandy of an archer- had been, for at least the past few weeks, taking up residence with the Shepherds. She'd not cared enough to pay him much attention.

"Leave war to the warriors, dear bird! A beauty such as you need wage only love."

Sully cast a prostrate glance at him, brow furrowed. "And who the hell are you?"

He grinned, smarmy. "Ha! Is the lady intrigued?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Of course you are- it's only natural."

He cleared his throat, stance jovial- chest puffed out. "I am myth and legend! I am he who strides large across history's greatest stage! The man who puts the 'arch' in 'archer'! My name, dear lady, is Vi-"

Having had enough, Sully turned from him, setting off at a slow trot. "Sorry, ruffles- no time for this."

Virion, both insulted by the interruption and her lack of awe, seemed unaware of how to approach. As if, in his entire life, he'd never met a maiden so unimpressed by him. "Virion! … er, my name. It's Virion!" He called after her, but Sully didn't seem to hear him. Either that, or she simply didn't care enough to grant him the attention.

"W-Wait! Where are you going? Pray, at least tell me your name!" He tried to follow her, jogging at her side.

"I'm Sully." She told him, plainly. "And I'm a Shepherd."

Virion, hand on heart, sighed contentedly.

"Sully! How divine! A starkly beautiful name, as befits its owner; truly." He reached up to her, and she glanced down irritably. "Will you marry me, my dearest Sully?"

"Will I _what _now?" She blanched, face falling, and then she smiled.

She laughed, briskly, which caused Virion to take another bout of offence.

"Wait, I get it... this is a joke."

Virion gasped, taken aback, but refused to stop walking alongside her.

"And when I put my boot through your face," Sully continued, "that's the punchline."

He smiled again, believing to have her figured out. He laughed, victorious once again. "I realise my manly figure and noble bearing can be overwhelming." He told her, having understood her apparent consternation. " 'Tis common! So please, don't feel pressured to answer right aw-"

Sully, having already had a bellyful, kicked out at him. He cowered, throwing his arms up.

"How's _that_ for an answer?!" She huffed, scowling down at him.

Virion, however close his face may have been to her boot, remained as jubilant as ever.

"G-Goodness! But those shapely legs certainly can kick, can't they."

"Shapely?!" Sully growled, and he shuddered once again.

He ran before her horse, gazing up at her expectantly. "Please, milady! Allow me to accompany you, at least! Mine is a cold, empty world without you." He clasped her hand, gaining little more than another irritated look. "I shall be your most willing servant, and you, in turn, will give my life purpose..."

She shook off his hand, sighing, and then offered it back to him. "Fine. Anything to shut you up." She helped hoist him up onto her horse, and he scrambled up behind her as elegantly as one can. "Any funny business, Ruffles, an' you'll have those arrows where the sun don't shine."

Virion, who had made to hold onto her, suddenly pulled his hands away.

She kicked in her heels, horse galloping through the streets of Ylisse.

Virion, with little else to hold on to, grabbed her around the middle anyway for fear of falling off.

* * *

The monster narrowly missed Chrom, the prince eluding the blow. He struck forwards, blade unwavering, and then again: felling the beast. Another of the eldritch abominations ran for him, Eponis hurling a bolt of lighting at it. It staggered, charred, and Chrom finished it off. More and more of them, it seemed, were fumbling through the dark forest, seeking them out.

"There's too many of them!" Chrom shouted, yet his tactician stood her ground.

"We'll have to hold out!"

Chrom nodded at her.

Huffing, sword bloodied, Frederick came galloping back to the rubble. "More to the south! I'm afraid I had to fall back."

The fort itself was dilapidated and precariously useless as a defence, but the monsters had a hard time lumbering over the fallen stones and rocks, which helped them to vouch for time between kills. Eponis glowered. It wasn't going to work. Frederick had said they were coming from the south, as well, and soon they'd be trapped before their ranks.

"Fall back!" Eponis shouted, and the group made their retreat.

Coming over the low wall, Chrom was, for the most part, vulnerable. He helped Lissa over, and then began to haul himself. Another of the creatures, however, had caught up, and it leered towards him.

"Chrom!" Lissa cried, but before he could even be scratched, an arrow came sailing through the air- striking it in the head and killing it.

"Ha ha! Useless dandy, indeed!" Virion uttered to Sully, regarding her paltry remarks. She'd had, admittedly, little else to entertain her during their ride.

Chrom, dumbfounded, turned to the voice, as did the others.

"Captain Chrom!" Sully called, shoving Virion from her steed as soon as she could. "I knew I shouldn'ta left ya."

They hurried to the arrival, still wary of the approaching hoard.

Sully scrutinised the green-haired stranger, gaze somewhat cold. "An' you are?"

"O-Oh, I'm Eponis." She replied, flustered.

Sully nodded in reply, but she didn't scowl any the less for it.

"And the Shepherd's new tactician." Chrom added, and Sully seemed more complacent.

"Well, that's good enough for me." She smiled, if a little warily, "hope you can handle yourself."

Virion, having felt that his presence had been demeaned for long enough, suddenly burst into the exchange.

"Goddesses and gentlemen, might I have your attention?!"

Sully, exasperated, considered bludgeoning herself.

"I, as it happens, am an archer!" He paused, grinning, to garter their attention. "The archest of archers, in fact!"

"You're a grown man in a bib, Ruffles." Sully scoffed at him. "If you've finished spinning your yarn, how about you put that bow to use?"

"Oh, well, I actually had something different in mind." Eponis began, revising her strategy once again. "Frederick noticed more of them to the south. Ride on ahead, kill as many as you can. We'll deal with the rest from here."

Chrom turned to face the monsters, Lissa at the ready.

Virion watched forlornly as they galloped off.

"And, um..?"

"Virion, fair lady!" He declared with much gusto, sweeping down at the tactician.

"Yes, well- Virion. If you could-"

Lissa cried out from behind them, another creature tailing her. Virion, drawing an arrow from its quiver with a flourish, leapt forwards as he drew the bow taut- another creature dead. Lissa, saved yet again, fell back from the fray.

"My pleasure, dear flower!" Virion bowed gravely, obeying his scruples and scriptures.

"Virion!" Eponis shouted, a hand axe tumbling through the air. It narrowly missed his chest, gouging nothing more than this arm. Eponis ran forwards, tome at the ready, as the archer bumbled back to Lissa, holding his wound.

She threw a flurry of sparks at the approaching group, the forks of lightening brilliantly bright in the dark. Chrom slew another two as they careened forwards, leaving but one against them. It roared ferociously, axe gleaming.

Its words were nothing more than slurred ferocities, red eyes unblinking.

Eponis' palm gleamed with a bright ball of thunder, her muttering low and deliberate. Chrom raised Falchion, looking back at her.

She nodded, arm close, and then sent it hurtling forwards as Chrom stabbed the beast. It screeched, noise terrible and animal, and fell into a bleeding mass- enveloped in thick smog.

Panting, the prince and tactician made their way back to Lissa and Virion.

"You could've died!" Lissa told him, incredulous. He waved off her concern, wincing as she prodded his wound.

"For you, my lady, I would die a hundred times." He seethed as she continued.

She muttered her apologies, fingers bloodied from his wet sleeve.

"All okay?" Chrom asked, and Lissa nodded.

Frederick and Sully came cantering back, Lissa's saviour in tow. "It seems all the creatures are vanquished." He spaced a glance for the stranger. "This young man took care of the others."

He was silent.

Lissa, glad that the archer's bleeding had stopped, got up from the grass. She stepped forwards, smiling.

"I never got to thank you... for before. So, thank you. You were very brave."

"You saved my sister's life." Chrom said to the masked stranger. "my name is Chrom. Might I ask yours?"

"You may call me Marth." He replied, quietly.

"Marth? After the heroic king of old?"

Marth nodded, demurely.

"You certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?"

Marth shook his head, unreadable from behind his mask. "I'm not here to talk about me."

He stepped forwards, gaze on Chrom. "This world teeters at the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was but a prelude. You have been warned." Without another word, Marth turned from them, disappearing back into the woods.

"Huh? What's teetering where now? Hey, wait!" Lissa called, but to no avail.

"Not much for conversation, is he?"

"It appears his skills lie elsewhere." Frederick began. "I'll wager we'll hear his name again." He turned to Chrom, expression stern. "But for now I'm more concerned about the capital. We should make haste."

"Of course." Chrom conceded, taking the lead alongside his lieutenant.

Eponis offered her shoulder to Virion, letting him lean against her as they walked.

"My lady," Virion smiled at her, breathing laboured, "you are an angel from heaven above! A true-"

"Just keep walking."

Regarding the group from a distance, Marth removed his mask, dabbing at his eyes.

"Please forgive me, father. " Fingertips, fondly, brushed over the hilt of his sword.


	3. Little Vigilantes

**ugh this is later than i'd intended. ah, well. i'm no good with action but hopefully writing this will let me have a little foray into writing it. not much _really_ happens here, i guess, but i'm looking to add a lot of relationship and (hopefully) character development in this as well as following the game so there will probably be a lot of that shoved in there along with the actual fighting. chicory water was noted by (get this) ~cervantes~ in 1605, so as well as being a fitting beverage, it's, well, _fitting_. also minor apologies for catty ladies and a poor chrom. eeep okay i've said enough. thank you. **

* * *

**chapter two**

**little vigilantes**

* * *

"So this is Ylisstol, capital of Ylisse..." Eponis couldn't believe how bustling and lively the streets were. "I've never seen so many people!"

Frederick smiled, relieved. "It appears the capital was spared the chaos we encountered, thank the gods."

Chrom and Lissa gave little noises of agreement.

"I see no evidence of the great quake. It must've been limited to the forest."

Lissa beamed. "Well, that's a relief!"

A few of the townsfolk had politely shared a nod of the head or subtle bow, but many of them had barely noticed the four of them, attentive to the palace. Eponis could just make it out, in the distance. A grand, beautiful palace, the likes of which she'd never seen.

"The exalt has come to see us!" A villager shouted, each side of the street lined with people, all watching a nearing procession. The Shepherds managed to find a small space to watch from, near the entranceway of a blacksmith's. Eponis glanced up at Frederick, who was just as imposing when off his horse as he was astride it.

"The exalt is your ruler, isn't she?"

"Yes," Frederick replied, turning his gaze from the congregation to the tactician, "her name is Lady Emmeryn."

Eponis, doubtful, watched as she waved and smiled at her people.

"Is it safe for her to walk amongst commoners like this?"

Frederick smiled, glancing back. His tone was something close to lecturing. "The Exalt is a symbol of peace- Ylisse's most prized quality. You may not be familiar with the Fell and Divine dragons, but the Divine and Exalted are beacons of peace and hope. If anything, Eponis, Exalt Emmeryn reminds us all of the peace we fought for."

Chrom, smiling fondly at Emmeryn as she knelt to speak to a child, joined the conversation. "With Plegia poking at our borders, the people need her. She's a calming presence, when some might otherwise call for war."

Eponis smiled at that, perhaps thankful to have been taken in by such a peaceful and prosperous halidom.

"The Ylissean people are, indeed, lucky to have her."

Lissa nodded, smiling at Eponis. "Yep! She's also the best big sister anyone could ask for!"

"Yes," Eponis agreed, "I imagine she-" Her face fell in realisation. "Wait, she's your-" She frowned, "but wouldn't that make you and Chrom-"

"The prince and princess of the realm, yes." Frederick amended for her. He raised a questioning brow, "you remember Chrom's name, and not this?"

Despite his scepticism, he smiled as he said this. As long as she was an object of humour, and not of scrutiny, Eponis didn't particularly mind.

She stared, worriedly, at Chrom and Lissa. "You said you were _shepherds_!"

Chrom chuckled. "And so we are... in a manner of speaking_._ We, uh, just have a _lot_ of sheep."

Eponis, flustered tried to bow and curtsey and scrape and kneel at the same time, "C-Chrom! I mean, Prince Chrom! Sire!" She bowed her head, "forgive my dreadful manners, I-"

"Just Chrom is fine," he assured her, "I've never been much for formalities."

Emmeryn, with a final cheer from her people, began to turn back to the palace, her procession close behind. Eponis spared a glance for Frederick.

"The prince and princess... I suppose that explains why Frederick tolerates all the teasing."

Frederick allowed himself a perturbed sigh. "Oh, indeed. The sacrifices I make for the good of the realm." He smiled, a little warily.

Chrom turned to his tactician. "It looks like Emm is returning to the palace. Would you like to meet her?"

Lissa, tugging at his arm, began to grumble indignantly. "Come ooooon!" She huffed, impatiently, "let's go see her!"

Chrom tutted with a roll of his eyes, allowing his sister to pull him along.

"So," Eponis began, as she and Frederick followed behind. "The Divine and the Fell dragons? Care to elaborate?"

"Ah, certainly." He spared her a minute glance, but for the most part kept his eyes on the prince and princess ahead. "Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the Fell dragon, Grima, tried to destroy the world." They stopped before a passing cart, the vendor nodding politely at them both. "But the first exalt joined forces with the leader of Divine dragons, Naga, and laid the beast low."

Eponis nodded, considering the story. "Naga was the leader of the Divine dragons? Did more exist?"

"Well, it has been noted by some scholars that there were more manaketes- more dragonkin- but if you ask me I consider it all non-veritable prattle."

It didn't surprise her that Frederick considered it poppycock. With such a sturdy head on sturdy shoulders, it was more than a given that he had little faith in the otherworldly.

They neared the castle gates, guards saluting their prince and princess. The palace courtyard stretched long before them, the walls tall. It felt safe and comfortable, walking alongside plots of flowers and grass, their blossoms caressed by the last of the summer breezes. Everything seemed at peace, invigorated, although the autumn was fast approaching.

"Chrom!" Running across the courtyard came a small boy, holding fast to his hat, a wide-brimmed behemoth of a hat that looked far too large for him. He came to a halt before them, panting.

"Are you okay? We've been so worried! Well, mainly me, but it's the thought that counts!" He smiled up at the prince, gaze eager, "do you want me to take your sword to be polished? Because I was thinking of going to the bakery, anyway, to get some more-"

"Ricken."

"Talking of food, I was wondering if you'd want any extra helpings at dinner- because you've been away, so you could always have mi-"

"Ricken." Chrom tried again, but to no avail.

"And obviously I'll polish your shoulder guard and boots for you, and I'll remember to-"

"Ricken!"

The mage suddenly stopped babbling, breaking off timidly. Chrom sighed, shaking his head. "How many times? You're not my squire, or a servant. You don't have to do any of that."

"So..." He chewed his lip, "is that a no?" He gazed forlornly at the ground, and Chrom sighed.

"Well... I suppose my rapier could do with a pol-"

"I'll take it right away! You can count on me!" Chrom shook his head as he handed Ricken his rapier. No sooner had he taken the sword, he was racing off once again.

"Well, he was colourful. Looks like you have a fan." Eponis chuckled.

Chrom, exasperated, turned to face her. "That was Ricken, one of our youngest. He's a little eager, I'll admit."

They continued into the palace, guards quick to open the doors for them. The large doors, thick and sturdy, creaked open with a heave. Eponis gazed, wide eyed, at the palace before her.

Emmeryn, conversing quietly with a white-haired woman, rose from her throne. "Chrom! Lissa!" She came down a short flight of steps, to meet them.

Lissa tried to stay composed, but eventually couldn't help herself, running to meet her sister. "Emm!" She flung her arms around her sister, head buried close to her chest. Emmeryn smiled down at Lissa, stroking her hair, and then turned to Chrom. "Welcome home."

She smiled radiantly at the other three. "And good day, Frederick. How fared you all?"

Eponis couldn't help but notice the marking on her forehead, similar to the mark on Chrom's arm. Mind on the subject of marks, she consciously rubbed the back of her hand.

"Well, we shouldn't have any bandit problems for a while."

Emmeryn sighed, content. "Wonderful. And our people?"

"Safe as they can be, Emm. But we still need to watch the borders. The brigands crossed over from Plegia."

The white-haired woman, red eyes calculating, had stepped down from Emmeryn's throne to greet them. She cleared her throat. "Forgive me, milord." She bowed her head to Chrom. "My pegasus knights should have intercepted them."

"No, Phila." He reassured her. "Your duty was here, with the exalt."

Phila nodded, once, briskly.

"And besides," Lissa chimed in, looking up at her sister, "we had plenty of help."

"Ah." Emmeryn smiled at Eponis, "you speak of your new companion here?"

Chrom gestured to her, in introduction. "This is Eponis. She fought bravely with us, against the brigands. I've decided to make her a Shepherd."

Emmeryn regarded the green-haired tactician, gaze warm and fond.

"It sounds as though Ylisse owes you a debt of gratitude, Eponis."

"Oh- no; not at all, milady." Eponis replied, stuck somewhere between a bow and a curtsy.

"Forgive me, your grace, but I must speak." Frederick interrupted, gravely. "Eponis claims to have lost her memory, but it is only that; a claim. We cannot rule out the possibility that she is a brigand herself, or even a Plegian spy."

"Frederick!"Chrom exclaimed, tone scathing.

Emmeryn's eyes, wisely, regarded the tactician.

"Yet you allowed her into the castle. Chrom, does this woman have your trust?"

"Yes." Chrom replied, assuredly. "She risked her life for our people. That's good enough for me."

Emmeryn regarded Eponis, somewhat fondly. "Well them, Eponis. It seems you've earned Chrom's faith. And, as such, you have mine as well."

Eponis bowed her head. "Milady."

"But thank you, Frederick, for your prudence- as always." She glanced down at Lissa, who had reluctantly let go. "Chrom and Lissa are blessed to have so tireless a guardian. I do hope they remember to mention that from time to time."

"They occasionally express something akin to gratitude, your grace."

Lissa, safe from scrutiny at Emmeryn's side, stuck out her tongue at him, playfully. Frederick allowed himself a moment of ire, and then turned to the Falcon knight.

"Phila. I assume you've heard about the deathly creatures we encountered, yes?"

"Yes, milord." She replied, tone gaunt. "They've been sighted all across Ylisse."

Emmeryn turned to her brother.

"Chrom, we are about to hold council. I was hoping you could join us." Despite the gloomy matter, her voice remained soft and gentle. It was no wonder she was a symbol of peace. Ever smiling, ever radiant.

"Of course," Chrom replied, following his sister further into the castle.

Lissa, looking a little awash with all of the business, tapped Eponis' arm. "I think that's our cue, Eponis."

She turned, still somewhat mollified by the scale of the palace.

"C'mon, there's a place I want to show you!" Lissa called back, impatiently, waiting for Eponis to catch up.

"Sorry, Lissa- I'm coming." She followed the princess back outside, and they crossed the courtyard again, passing under stone archways.

"I suppose Sully and Virion made it back okay..." Lissa mused as they walked. A whole wing of the palace, it appeared, had been renovated into a completely separate suite. An addition that cut so far into the surrounding field, the palace pathways stopped some distance from the entrance.

Lissa was first, opening the doors. She gestured to the large room, beaming. "Ta da! Here we are! The Shepherds' garrison."

The room itself looked like a personification of war; shelves lined with tonics and concoctions, spell tomes taking up tables, lances and blades haphazardly placed amongst targets and sack dummies.

"Go on, make yourself at home." Lissa urged, stepping further into the hall. Many a door must have led into the living quarters of the army.

Eponis approached Lissa, casting a wary glance at the other soldiers, a few of them scattered in different areas of the room.

"Lissa, my treasure! Are you all right? I've been on pins and needles!" Called one of them, her voice high-pitched, the very epitome of elocution. She dashed to Lissa's side, searching for bruises.

"Oh, hey, Maribelle!" Lissa replied, nonchalantly, beaming at her friend.

Maribelle, hair collected in large coiffed ringlets, scoffed, turning up her nose. " 'Oh, hey' yourself! I've sprouted fourteen grey hairs fretting over you!" She began to separate strands, searching for them.

Lissa giggled again. "Aw, you worry too much! I can handle a battle or two!"

Maribelle, still scrutinising her hair, didn't reply.

"Although..." Lissa mumbled, expression sour. "I could do without the bugs and the bear barbecue."

Eponis chuckled quietly at that.

A fighter approached them, blonde hair swept back, flyaway from behind a small black band. "Hey, squirt!" He said in greeting to Lissa, "where's Chrom?"

His tone was a little gnarled, a white scar running from his hairline until it was parallel with the end of his nose. His tongue, it seemed, had a habit of leaving his mouth- because as he paused he ran it absently along his teeth. "I bet he had a rough time out there without ol' Teach and his trusty axe!"

"Oh, so you're '_Teach_' now, Vaike, is that it?" She giggled. "And here I thought some people were just born lacking wits. It can be taught?"

Vaike grinned at her.

"Never doubt the Vaike!" His face fell, suddenly. "Wait... was that an insult?"

A pegasus knight, who had been polishing lances by herself, approached the group. "Beg pardon, but when might we see the captain?"

Maribelle looked up from her hair, smiling conspiratorially.

"Poor Sumia. She's simply been beside herself with concern..." Her tone, however polished and pretty, had a bite to it. "Her eyes were scanning the horizon all day during training." Maribelle allowed herself a small smile, "she might have earned fewer bruises fighting blindfolded!"

Lissa smiled at Sumia, who was somewhat abashed. Then again, for one so easily flustered, Maribelle's comments were hardly going to help.

"Aw, Sumia! That's so sweet of you, to worry about Chrom." Lissa said, tone honest.

Chrom himself had, and always had been, the reason behind some rivalry between the fairer Shepherds. Lissa, herself, had never seen the point in it. Guys as a whole were icky, as far as she was concerned, and Chrom didn't fall short of that scrutiny.

Sumia stuttered, trying to collect her bearings. "Worry? W-Well, I... He's our _captain_ and our _prince_- o-of course I'd worry!"

Vaike, ever ignorant to matters that didn't revolve around him, was staring at Eponis instead of listening to the others. "So, who's the stranger?"

"No one's stranger than you, Vaike." Lissa giggled, "but allow me to introduce... Eponis!" She gestured to her, grandly. "She just joined the Shepherds; Chrom's made her our new tactician. You should see all the tricks she's got up her sleeve!"

Vaike raised a brow, tone challenging.

"Oh yeah? Can she do this?" He burped, loudly and awfully.

Maribelle turned her head away, very close to gagging. She held a hand over her mouth in disgust.

"I'm sure I have much to learn in the belching arts, _teach._" Eponis chuckled, "in any case, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

Maribelle scoffed, prudently regarding Vaike with a stern, sour look. "Ugh, Vaike! That was abhorrent! Must you baseborn oafs pollute even the _air_ with your baseborn buffonery?" She turned on Eponis, sharply, hands on her hips, "and you, Eponis! Don't encourage him! I'd hoped you were cut from finer cloth."

With a final 'Hmph!' Maribelle spun on her heel, boots clacking on the stone floor as she went.

"Don't take it to heart, Eponis," Sumia said, smiling gently at her, "Maribelle warms to people slowly."

"Or burns too quickly!" Lissa chimed in, giggling. "Just give her time, Eponis."

The doors to the garrison swung open, Chrom looking somewhat drained from the council. Sumia, flustered once again, tried to curtsy and race forwards to greet him at the same time. "Ah! Captain! You've returned! I was- I mean, _we_ were so-" In her bumbling stupor she ended up flat on her face, but she stumbled to her feet before any of them could intervene.

"Sumia! Are you alright?"

She nodded at Chrom, wincing as she felt her throbbing head.

"Those boots of yours again?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean..." She sighed, trailing off.

Chrom addressed the rest of the Shepherds.

"All right; Listen, everyone!"

A woman, neck-deep in parchment and books, looked up at Chrom from across the room. The cavalier next to her, yawning, suddenly snapped to attention, and in doing so knocked over a pot of ink. The woman, glaring, hissed at him.

"_Stahl! You maladroit oaf!_"

He apologised, sheepishly, wincing at her tone.

Chrom cleared his throat, and they both turned to him.

"In the morning, we'll be marching to Regna Ferox."

"Regna Ferox?"

"A unified kingdom to Ylisse's north. Inhabited by barbarians, or so it's said." Sumia graciously informed her.

Chrom continued, "warriors is what they are, and we'll need their strength to quell this new menace. Typically, the exalt would request such aid in person. But, given recent events..." He shrugged, skirting around the issue, "well, the people might worry, should my sister suddenly leave the capital. So the task has been passed to us."

He looked at his Shepherds, gaze firm. "Now, this mission is strictly voluntary. So if, for any-"

"I volunteer!" Lissa immediately shot her hand up, tone bright.

"Me too!" Vaike added, "you'll be needin' ol' Teach along for such a delicate mission!"

Suddenly, startling them all, came a soft voice from across the room. "I'll go as well..."

He noticed their surprise, despite him being clad in a full, cantankerous suit of armour. "What? I've been here the whole time!"

Sumia deliberated, fumbling with her fingers.

"I... I, um..." She could barely get a sentence out.

"Yes, Sumia?" Chrom asked, glancing at her, concerned.

"It's just that..." She shrugged, withdrawn, "I'm not sure I'm quite ready for a proper mission just yet."

She looked at her feet, voice quiet. "I'd probably just get in the way."

Chrom smiled fondly at her. Sumia might not have been so keen on the idea of war, but even Phila had seen some promise in her: She was handy with a lance, no matter now frequently she dropped it, and she had a wonderful rapport with the horses and pegasi.

"Well," he began, and Sumia, startled, looked back up. "You could stay behind the main group. And, if a battle is met, just watch and learn? It's your choice, of course. But some lessons can only be learned on the battlefield."

"W-Well, if you think it wise, captain." She replied, abashed.

He smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. "Just stay by me, and you'll be fine."

"Oh, yes! I mean- yes, sir, I'll do that!" She blushed, perhaps embarrassed with how eager she sounded. He was a prince, after all, and she was nothing but a soldier.

"Hey, where's Frederick?" Lissa asked.

He'd been in the council, same as Chrom, but hadn't returned with him.

Chrom shared a knowing look with his sister. "Phila wanted a word with him."

Lissa smiled, beginning to sing quietly.

"Frederick and Phila, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"

"Hilarious, milady."

She squeaked, hands clasped over her mouth. "Frederick, I, um..."

His gaze was thunderous.

"I didn't mean it, I swear!"

"Speak of the devil." Eponis muttered to Chrom.

Frederick had a bundle of papers in his arms, which he hastily returned to his living quarters with.

Lissa, however much Frederick may have scared her, smiled once he was out of earshot, far across the room. "I bet you five gold pieces that they're love letters."

"They most certainly are _not_!" Frederick shouted back, and Lissa squeaked once again, stifling her laughter, before the room fell into a fit of giggles.

* * *

"No, it's okay!" Stahl muttered, dramatically. "I'll just set the table _by myself_, like I _always do!_"

"But, Stahl, I'm right here!"

The cavalier didn't seem to hear him, creating an awful racket with the cutlery.

"Obviously, it takes two people to cook dinner, and two people to groom the horses, and everyone else to sit around chatting, but _only one_ to set the table!"

"Stahl, will you _please_ cease your puerile chatter? It's enough of a task cataloguing our armament as it is, without having to hear you prattle on like a melodramatic child."

He winced, setting the next plate down gently. "Sorry, Miriel."

She stared at him, gaze disciplinary, and then returned to her quill and parchment.

No more than a few moment later, however, he began to clatter anew.

"Stahl! Honestly. What _has_ gotten into you?"

"I didn't set down any tankards!" He exclaimed, wide eyed.

Miriel didn't seem to understand him, simply glaring down her nose at him.

"And now there are thirteen! I've only set twelve places, _without _tankards, and now there are thirteen!"

Miriel rolled her eyes at him with a stern 'Harumph!'. Kellam, who had been trying to help Stahl from the beginning, cleared his throat. "Uh, Stahl? You forgot to set a place for me..."

"Aargh!" Stahl shouted, dropping a plate.

Miriel, huffing, threw her quill down in rebuff.

"Kellam, do you _have_ to sneak up on people like that?"

"But... I wasn't! I didn't-"

"Are you guys okay?" Sumia asked, on her way to the stables.

Stahl smiled, sheepishly, holding remains of the last plate. "Fine, Sumia! We're just _fine_."

She nodded, if a little unsettled by Miriel's haughty glaring (directed at both Kellam and Stahl), and continued on her way.

If anything, being able to spend time with the pegasi and horses was one of the highlights of her position. She was too clumsy and lousy to help in battle (or so she kept telling herself), but she found some solace in their whinnying and quiet companionship.

She turned into the stables, humming quietly. Phila's pegasi nickered happily as she approached, and she reached out to pat its muzzle.

"How about we get rid of those tangles, huh?" It made a noise of agreement as she unlocked its pen, smoothing her hand down its neck. "Who's a good pegasus?" She smiled, beginning to brush it down. "Who's a good wittle pegasus?"

She expected it to whinny again, but instead she was greeted with a harsh voice.

"Are you talking to that thing again?"

She stuttered, turning around to see Sully hauling a bale of hay into the stables.

Sumia smiled, disarmed. "Oh, hi, Sully!"

She watched Sully, for a moment, and then turned back to the pegasi, taking a small pouch of grain and spilling some into her palm. She offered it to the pegasi, her other hand stroking its mane.

"You're spoiling the animal!" Sully laughed, beginning to stuff hay into her horse's trough.

Sumia, abashed, shrugged.

"He's practically died and gone to horse heaven!"

Sumia giggled quietly with her, still stroking Phila's pegasus. She'd always yearned for a pegasus of her own, but with a mount came the possibility of it getting hurt. It was the knowledge that she, and she alone, could be responsible for the death of such a beautiful creature that put her off riding one.

"He does look happy, doesn't he?" She said, softly, but Sully didn't hear her.

She spoke up, "you're quite fond of your horse too, aren't you, Sully?"

The cavalier turned, ruffling her shock of red hair. "Hell yes, I'm proud! He's got smarts _and_ guts! What more could a woman want?"

Sumia giggled, closing the pen behind her.

"When you talk about him, you sound like a proud mother."

Sully shook her head, as if the notion were ridiculous. "Ha! I'm not really the maternal type."

"Even so," Sumia replied, twirling the brush in her hands, "it's obvious how fond you two are of each other. Whenever you praise him, he snorts ever so happily!"

Sully replied with a quiet 'huh', turning to her horse. She patted him, from his poll to his muzzle. "You noticed that?"

She considered, silent, and then turned to Sumia. "Most folks just assume he's some mindless beast."

"Oh, no, he's nothing of the sor-" They both turned, vaguely able to hear the scraping of chairs and a faint bell.

"Looks like dinner's being served." Sully began to leave the stables, but she cast a glance over her shoulder. "Comin', Sumia?"

"Y-Yes!" She followed Sully, out of the stables and through the courtyard.

The door to the garrison was ajar, candlelight streaming outside in a small pane of gold light. Inside, most of the Shepherds were already seated, with Frederick beginning to ladle stew out for them. Eponis, in a bid to be helpful, had offered to pour the ale and chicory water.

Sumia sat herself next to Stahl. He smiled at her, and then to the food. His stomach, quietly, gurgled.

"Yeah, well it still happened!" Vaike continued, halfway into a far-fetched story.

"He came runnin' for me, all 'HIYAAARGH!', and he missed! And my axe is heavy, y'know, so it takes some strength to lift it. But I swung back, shoutin', 'GWAAAAAAR!' and finished him off!"

Miriel, who had unfortunately been landed next to Vaike, had finally had enough.

"Would you be so kind as to put and end to your caterwauling?" She sniffed, caustic, and folded over the corner of her page to keep her place. "I'm trying to read, but I can't hear myself think over your incessant grunting."

He guffawed, slapping her on the back.

"Har har! Can't tell a story without a few good battle cries!"

She readjusted her hat, scowling at him something fierce. "Fascinating. Apparently your howling on the battlefield, as a modicum display of effort, isn't enough. Instead, you seek to apply such heinous, vexatious blathering in every opportunity you seem to stumble upon."

He frowned, looking to his stew for some consonance.

"Lady? From what you just said I understood 'fascinating'. And... that's about it."

A few of the others laughed, perhaps in agreement with him. It wasn't unusual for Vaike to be befuddled and confused.

"All you talk about is this maths mumbo jumbo, Miriel. Lighten up, would ya?"

She winced from another hearty slap on the back, and, resignedly, began to eat.

Suddenly, storming into the garrison, came Chrom. In his hand was a fistful of paper, face beet-red with anger (and very probably mortification).

"Frederick." He seethed, blushing despite his anger. "A word. Please."

Frederick, who had been about to sit down to a much deserved dinner, reluctantly got back up.

The prince scrubbed at his cheeks, scowling. His irritable and rather peculiar behaviour was beginning to make the great knight uneasy, so much that his voice quivered as he replied. "Sire?"

Chrom led him outside, exhaling sharply. Frederick cleared his throat.

"I completed my patrol of the encampment earlier this evening, milord."

Chrom didn't seem any the less perturbed.

"I also had some blankets procured, seeing as the winter is drawing in. I've readied a variety of colours, so you might pick that which best suits you." He lowered his tone, somewhat conspiratorially. "If I may be so bold, sire, peach would seem to best flatter your complexion."

Chrom, exasperated, let out an aggravated sigh.

"But perhaps blue." Frederick amended. "Just to be safe? Yes, that's best. Blue it is!"

Chrom shook his head, still trying to dispel the dusty tint of his cheeks.

"This isn't about blankets, Frederick!"

He remembered how close they were to the others, and then reconsidered his tone of voice.

"I found _this_ in my quarters." He offered the torn paper to Frederick, who tried to smooth down the poster. Chrom had been painted on it, stark naked, save for a scale in his one hand, and Falchion in the other.

"Oh! These." He nodded, understanding. "I had them pinned inside each and every room. And I have more for the tents. Surely, the troops will be thrilled to rally behind their common leader, milord."

Chrom blushed anew, eyes wide.

"You did _what_?!"

He turned from Frederick, the night air doing nothing but enhance the burning of his cheeks. Gods.

"In whose... you hung this pict-" He turned back to Frederick. "In _**everyone's **_tent?!" He hissed.

"No need for thanks, milord. Merely doing my duty." Frederick beamed.

Chrom, fatigued, shook his head.

He made to speak, stuttered, and then went back into the garrison.

He sat down beside Eponis, sighing, head in his hands.

She opened her mouth, to ask if he wanted ale or chicory water, but then saw the look on his face and quickly decided on ale.

"Are you alright?" She asked, pouring out his ale. He thanked her, swigging from it heartily.

"I'm fine. So, you've met the other Shepherds?"

She nodded, smiling.

"They've been quite welcoming."

Chrom nodded, hands around his tankard. She took a spoonful of stew, but then dropped it back. "You know, with all that's happened, I've barely had time to eat." She laughed, quietly, and then ate her spoonful.

"It's been a tough road, to be sure. And it's only going to get harder." Chrom added, gloomily.

"Well, I'll be thankful to have my beauty sleep tonight. Fields aren't all that good for the back." She joked.

Chrom frowned, a little taken aback.

"What?" She asked, watching him. "Did I say something?"

He toyed with his spoon.

"Er, no... no, it's nothing." He cleared his throat. "It's just that..." He shrugged. "Well, I just didn't consider you the type to care after beauty and such... I suppose, I didn't really think of you as a lady."

And he hadn't, really. She'd fought as well as any other brother in arms. She was a woman, of course, but not what he'd call a _lady. _

She scowled, taking offence.

"Excuse me?!"

At least half of the table had turned to them, to see their prince cowering and trying to apologise to their new tactician.

"No! I mean- I didn't mean- not like that!"

Sully, in particular, seemed to find some amusement in his flustered manner.

"That is to say, a 'lady', per se... uhm..." He gestured blankly with his spoon. "You know, how you fight and strategise, and..."

Eponis blinked, scoffing.

"Not to say a lady _can't_ fight, but- Gods, this is coming out all wrong."

"My goodness, Chrom. You're the scion of a noble family, aren't you?" She asked, somewhat rhetorically. "Didn't they teach you manners at your fancy schools, growing up?"

"Oh, gods, yes," he replied, hoping to start digging his way out of his self-made grave, "of course they did. We spent a whole term on etiquette!"

Eponis nodded, lips pursed.

"Perhaps you could use another term. This time, on how to talk with a lady."

Chrom shrugged again, taking another sip of ale.

"It's just... my image of a lady is someone so prim, and proper... perfumed, and pretty- nothing like you at all! When I look at you, I just don't see a 'lady'. Does that-"

He looked at her, to see her expression was grim and resentful.

"Uh, Eponis?"

She stared into the depths of her tankard, deliberating, and then threw it at him, chicory water dripping from his face. He wiped his eyes, sighing. He'd deserved that.

From across the table Sully gave a hoot, but was quickly hushed.

Chrom watched as Eponis left her seat, walking off into the night. He exhaled, despondent.

"Well, well, _someone_ isn't all too valiant with the ladies!" Virion chortled. "Fear not, my prince! For there is none other better suited to teac-"

"Put a sock in it, Ruffles."

* * *

"Lissa, darling, whatever is the matter?" Emmeryn asked, combing her hair. Lissa watched through the mirror of her boudoir, threading her hair ribbons betwixt her fingers.

"I don't think I'm ready, Emm." She said, quietly.

Her sister bent down, meeting Lissa's gaze in the mirror.

"Chrom tells me you fought bravely." She ran her fingers gently through Lissa's tangle of blonde hair, the ends unruly and haphazardly curled. "And that you readily volunteered for the mission to Ferox."

"I did, yeah..." Lissa replied, twirling a strand of hair. "But... I don't think I'm ready."

"How so?" Emmeryn asked, still brushing.

"Well, in Southtown... Everyone looked so... unhappy. Their houses were ruined, and they were scared, and- and..." She sniffled, quietly. "I think it's too much."

"Now, now. Don't cry, Lissa." Emmeryn told her, gently.

She stroked a hand through her hair, smile warm.

"You were so eager to help. To save your people. Have you really changed heart so easily?"

"Well, no..." Lissa mumbled, eyes downcast. "But I'm not like you. Or Chrom. I can't _fight_ for them."

"Who said that you had to fight?" Emmeryn asked.

Lissa looked up at her, expectantly.

"You are your own person, Lissa. And I think you'll do a splendid job."

"You think so?" Lissa asked, looking back at her reflection. She parted her hair, so that her curls fell on either side of her shoulders. Instead of lovely ringlets, like Emmeryn's, her hair fell into two lengths of slapdash curls and flicks of hair. She pouted, tugging at them. Emmeryn, smiling, began to tie them in low bunches.

Lissa tried so hard to be like her siblings: always striving to be better, to improve.

"I _know_ so, darling." She tied the second bow, stroking her sister's head again, affectionately. "You're wonderful. Just as you are."

Lissa smiled, her blue eyes nearly pearling with tears.

"I'll have Phila take your crinoline to your room." She smoothed down the sleeves of Lissa's nightgown, the silken fabric catching the moonlight.

"Now, to bed." Emmeryn proclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Lissa grumbled. "But, Emm-"

"No buts, Lissa. We need you bright eyed for tomorrow."

She ushered her sister forwards, holding her protectively to her side. Lissa, drowsily, followed suit.

* * *

"Miriel!"

She looked up, ceasing her scribbling to dip her quill in ink.

Stahl hurriedly strapped his other spaulder on, as best as he could with one hand.

"I slept in, for heaven's sake! _And _I missed breakfast!" If anything, he seemed more upset about the latter. He struggled with his gorget, just about managing to get it over his head in his hurry.

"Where is everyone?"

She glanced up, again, dipping her quill. "They left on their expedition to Ferox. Surely, you were informed?" Her scowl was, for the most part, present because of the interruptions. "Now, Stahl, I really _must _finish this. I'll be along as soon as I can, but if paperwork is no longer paramount to bludgeoning every other man who comes across the Northroad, then I want no part in it."

"Gah! Why is it always me?" He snivelled, as his goodbye, and set off through the palace courtyard.

Not only had he missed breakfast, the leaving party, _and_ had to to saddle his horse (which added more time to how late he already was), but he was certain that he'd also miss second breakfast, brunch, elevenses, high tea and supper, too.

He spared a thought for his poor stomach, before hurrying on.

At the gates of Ylisse, the other Shepherds were congregated before Chrom.

Eponis, eyes bleary, was still half asleep. Partly, she yearned for her bed.

"Is everyone ready?" Chrom asked, concerned about the amount of yawning and muttering between them. "We've a long march ahead."

The group gave a unanimous, drowsy 'Yes, Chrom', which did nothing but affirm his doubts.

"Now, I-"

"W-Wait for me!" Stahl shouted, lumbering through Ylisse on his steed. He stopped, suddenly, before them, and his horse whinnied in provocation.

"Stahl?"

"Why am I the last to hear about the expedition to Ferox?"

Lissa turned to Vaike, dubious and somewhat aporetic. "Huh? Vaike was supposed to..."

She drew in a sharp breath.

"Vaike! Did you forget to tell Stahl about our mission?"

"Hey!" Vaike exclaimed, insulted. "The Vaike never forgets!"

He tried to laugh it off, despite the group's unamused looks.

"… I just don't remember, is all..." He added, in quiet afterthought.

Lissa sighed, folding her arms. "I swear, you'd forget your own name if you weren't constantly saying it yourself!"

"Okay, okay. That's enough." Chrom intervened. "Let's march, Shepherds."

With that, they began on their march, the early morning cold and quiet. Frederick took the lead, the sides of the group flanked by Sully and Stahl.

Lissa turned to Vaike as they walked. "Speaking of remembering... Vaike, are you_ sure_ you remembered your axe this time?"

"Hey!" He rebutted, "That was _one_ time!"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, _twice- _but training sessions don't count."

She giggled at him, and he seemed to take it in good humour. "Anyway, I got it right here." He nodded towards his axe, slung over his shoulder.

Vaike turned to his right, smiling at Stahl. "Glad to have you along, Stahl ol' buddy."

Stahl, gazing down from his horse, didn't look so glad himself. "That makes one of us." He grumbled. "I was in such a hurry, I had to miss breakfast! I could've done with a muffin, or a cake... ugh, my stomach's rumbling."

Eponis, a little way ahead of them, turned back to address the cavalier. "Stahl, isn't it?"

"Hello!" He turned to face her, trying to smile despite his empty stomach. "Uh, Eponis, right?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Miriel told me we had a new Shepherd." He looked apologetic. "I didn't really get to talk to you over dinner..."

He called back to her, realising his folly. "Er, Miriel's one of our mages. She should catch up soon."

She nodded, understanding, and took her place back at Chrom's side.

Chrom deliberated, casting short sidewards glances at her. She looked on ahead, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes. Gods, but she was sleepy.

"Eponis?" He asked, unable to meet her eye.

"What is it, Chrom?"

"Well... I, uh... I wanted to apologise." She didn't reply, and he took that as a good enough omen to continue. "For last night. I was... well, I was rather rude."

" 'Rather' is an understatement." She huffed.

Chrom made to grab her arm, to get her to face him, but he thought against it.

"Well, I _am_ sorry, I was ill spoken, and-"

"Stop." She muttered, and Chrom, startled, shook his head. He was determined to have his say.

"No, please- I want to apo-"

"Company, halt!"

The group stopped, eyes on the road ahead. The early morning may have been murky, but the congregation of smoggy figures ahead was unmistakable.

"Gods!" Chrom exclaimed, able to make out the monsters ahead. "Have the risen spread this far?"

"Risen?"

"We needed a name for this new threat, so the council gave them one." He explained.

Frederick, still firmly leading the Shepherds, turned to face the group. "Everyone, remember what we're up against.

Eponis blanched.

"Like I could forget!" She muttered, quietly.

"Mya ha!" Vaike spoke up, "they'll remember _me_, once I drive my axe into their-" His face fell, disheartened, "wait... my axe... where's my axe?!"

He looked around, the dilemma as ridiculous to him as it was to the others. How anyone, even such an idiot as Vaike, could misplace a heavy iron axe was beyond them.

"I had it a second ago!"

Chrom spun round to face him, expression stern. "Vaike, this is no time for jokes!"

"I'm serious!" He maintained, "it's gone, but I _just_ had it!"

"Keep to the rear, then!" Chrom chided, "the battle is nigh!"

He turned to his tactician.

"Well, Eponis? Guide our swords."

"Might I advice patience, milord? Eponis is a fine tactician, but we have been working her mercilessly." Frederick cautioned the prince.

Eponis tried not to show her reaction to the insult. He still didn't trust her, and she was fully aware of the fact. Then again, they had only known one another for little over a day. She didn't expect to earn his trust in a heartbeat.

"Frederick, you and Sully keep watch from the left. Stahl, keep close behind." She pulled her tome from her cloak, eyes on the approaching Risen. "Lissa, Vaike, Sumia, I want you all to hold back. At least for the time being."

"Gods, but they're ugly!" Sully sniffed, lance at the ready. One of the monsters ran for them, its sword missing by whole inches.

Sully reared up her horse, and then struck for it. It cowered, wounded, until another blow from Frederick put it out of its misery.

Chrom and Eponis, to the right of them, neared a barbarian close to the clearing of trees. It howled, racing forwards, but two bolts of lightening were all it took to ground it.

The Risen were fast approaching, Sumia keeping Lissa close. Vaike, if need be, was ready to use his fists.

Stahl slashed down at another Risen, but it had the sense to stab at him before it died. Stahl yelped, holding his side. Despite his armour, it had managed to hack above the shield on his thigh, hitting him in one of his few vulnerable spots.

Lissa tried to get to him, but Sumia held her back. "Eponis told us to wait, Lissa. She wouldn't want you running into danger."

Lissa nodded, unable to do much else but watch on.

Further south of them, just approaching the Northroad, came Miriel. She spotted the group ahead, and allowed herself a small smile.

"Splendid! It seems I've caught up. Now, to extirpate these brutes." Her gaze fell to the path, and she frowned. "Is that an axe?"

She neared it, picking it up. The weight of it disagreed with her, causing her to lug it along with both hands. (Hands that, she would ascertain to the utmost degree, were only suited to perusing and penning texts.)

"Why, yes, it is." She remarked, to herself, trying to keep a constant pace despite the strain. "Perhaps someone mislaid it?"

She scoffed at the thought.

"I'd not thought such dereliction permissible amongst the Shepherds. Still, I'd be remiss to not return this implement to its owner." As she neared the closest group, her discerning gaze fell on Vaike. "Perhaps along with a stern word or two of disapprobation!"

Finally, arms beginning to ache, she was before them.

"Good morning!" She called, the three of them turning to face her.

Vaike's face lit up. "Whoa! My axe."

Miriel handed it to him, more than thankful that it was in capable hands. She sighed at him, pressing a thumb to her palm, assessing the damage.

"I wondered what manner of ignoramus would mislay their weapon." She rolled her eyes, haughtily. "Now I know."

"Thanks, Miriel!" Vaike grinned, and then seemed to understand what she'd said, "er, for the axe, anyway."

She sighed, procuring her tome from her robes.

"Perhaps next time I'll use a spell to fasten it to your hands..."

She stared at him pointedly.

"Permanently."

"You guys go on ahead." Sumia said. "I'll stay here, keep an eye on Lissa."

The princess gave her an unimpressed glare.

"Not that you can't keep an eye on yourself!" She giggled, but then seemed to remember her place, as well as theirs.

Miriel and Vaike carried on through the woodland, striking down another monster.

Stahl, bested for the most part, cantered back to Lissa and Sumia. Despite the numerous risen ahead, Lissa hurried to him, Sumia left to fidget and bite her nails. How she wished she could help. She'd not even had her own pegasus (which was, primarily, due to her worry), which in her eyes made her a pretty poor excuse for a pegasus knight.

Stahl, healed, thanked Lissa and set off to the north-most trees, regrouping with Virion.

The fighting was awful, and rancorous. Naught but fire and thunder and the clattering of weaponry.

The Shepherds began to rescind, the Risen howling and swinging from the bridge ahead.

Chrom and Eponis limped towards the small group, the prince's arm slung around her back. Lissa jogged to her, raising her staff.

More Risen began to spill from the bridge.

Eponis turned, Stahl and Virion still keeping watch from the east trees.

"Wait! I'm not finished!" Lissa urged her, her staff casting off a green light.

"Vaike and Miriel need to go on ahead. Lissa, I don't want you any closer to the fighting."

She nodded, finished healing, and watched as they faced the approaching threat.

A barbarian lumbered forwards, swinging for Chrom, but Eponis shoved him aside in time. She held her side, seething, as Chrom slashed at the monster.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, wincing.

"Eponis, you're hurt." He said, brow furrowed in concern, and made to reach out for her.

She knocked his hand away. "It's not important!" She grimaced, carrying on ahead with Chrom hot on her heels.

To their left, Stahl stabbed at another monster, Virion slaying it with a well-executed twang of his bow.

Frederick and Sully, safe under a canopy of trees, could scout out the Risen beyond the bridge.

The rest of the Shepherds continued onwards, the monsters blundering over the bridge towards them. Sully, boldly, galloped from their forest canopy, striking one clean in the chest. It cowered and howled, throwing its axe at her.

Sully gave a shout, her arm deeply gouged.

Virion, with a leap, sent off another arrow, and it departed in a cloud of black smoke.

Vaike and Miriel, at Eponis' behest, attacked the next. Vaike yelled as he swung his axe, Miriel scoffing at his theatrics as she conjured a ball of fire, hurling it at the creature.

The creatures seemed to have no sense of direction, aside from their ability to seek out prey. And so they yelled and brandished their weapons, reluctant to cross the stream.

Seeking this advantage, they tended to their injured, briefly, before filing across the bridge. Chrom and Eponis took the lead, Vaike and Miriel close behind.

From both sides came the abominations, but they were quickly put to rest.

The chieftain, the most robust and grisly of them, merely watched on from a distance, guffawing wickedly.

The onslaught was, for the most part, easily dealt with. Chrom took a beating, though, but Eponis was quick to offer him her last vulnerary.

The chief, yelling and garbling whatever words it was able to sound, came running for them.

Miriel, caught in the line of fire, managed to throw a burst of flames before one of its axes came whirling overhead, Vaike pulling her aside. She thanked him, wide eyed, as prince Chrom approached.

Despite the terrible wailing and swinging of its remaining axe, it took no more than a stab of Falchion and a sudden arrow from Virion to send it crashing to its knees.

It gurgled, bleeding, and collapsed to the floor.

Chrom, huffing, allowed himself a small smile. "Finally." He panted, "and good riddance!"

He considered the woodland, his Shepherds attending to their wounds. "But, if they're appearing this far up the Northroad..."

"Then no path is safe." Frederick supplemented, his gaze discerning, "we'll need to stay wary."

Chrom nodded. "Agreed."


	4. A Glacial Reception

**oop hi um yeah college sort of swallowed me up and i was a little late with this *sighs***

**w/e here goes nothing (also thanks for the reviews so far (^v^)! much appreciated!)**

* * *

**chapter four **

**a glacial reception**

* * *

The Northroad, as dangerous as it had been hours ago, was quiet and pleasant in the late afternoon. No bandits or Risen had encroached their path, so with no other delays they were well on their way to Regna Ferox.

The mountainous regions, too much for them to consider climbing as they approached evening, were where they set up camp.

In a short few hours they had a communal tent, a fire, and a dinner of bland rations. It was relaxed, despite their earlier battle. Arranged around the fire, muttering between themselves, their morale was thankfully jubilant.

Vaike, who had been unusually quiet, was carefully watching Sully. "Whatcha eatin' there?" He asked, inquisitive, because whatever it was- it sure as hell wasn't stale crackers.

Sully wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, staring back at him. "Bogsberry and cabbage pie." She told him.

Vaike nodded, running his tongue over his teeth absentmindedly. He took a coin from his pocket, waving it at Sully. "A shiny copper coin says it was baked by them lady friends of yours."

"Keep your coin." She huffed, between mouthfuls, "they gave it to me before we left, to keep me warm on the journey."

"Gremlin's tail!" He swore, tossing the coin up. He caught it and sighed. "The Vaike's never had a gaggle of maidens bake _him_ a pie!"

He turned to Sully, eagerly. "How'd ya do it? What's your secret?!"

She stared at him, unimpressed.

"Er... not that I'm jealous or nothin'..."

Sully shrugged. "I suppose I'm just charming like that." She smirked, wiping the corner of her mouth, "why, you need advice?"

He laughed it off, shoving her playfully. Sully, almost dropping her pie, shoved him back twice as hard.

"Ol' Teach don't need advice on that score!" He laughed, wincing ever so slightly. Gods, but she could pack a punch. "I mean, sure, no one's ever bothered to bake me a tasty pie..." He ruffled his hair, leaning back against the mountain outcrop. "But I knew a milkmaid once who gave me an apple- and it only had one worm in it!"

"Good for you." Sully replied, deadpan.

" 'Sides, I'm more of a man's man, ya know?"

She spared him a caustic glance, because- _oh boy_- did she know.

"And men don't usually go for pie bakin'." He tossed his coin again. "I'd rather eat a donkey's hindquarters than a pie baked by one'a my mates!" He laughed again, despite his duress.

"Still, I'd give anything to have lasses offering me pies all the time." He sighed, catching the firelight on his coin. He toyed with it, the glow dull.

"Maybe it's the horse?" He wondered, muttering to himself. "Ladies do love the horses..."

Sully, gaze prostrate, scooped up another forkful of pie. "An idiot on a horse is still an idiot." She quipped, and Vaike replied with an offended 'Hey!', frowning at her.

He watched his coin, and then suddenly pocketed it. "Hey, wait a sec..." He glanced to her. "Sully, you're a woman..."

Her expression was one of exasperation.

"Er, right?"

"Hey, hey, settle down!" Lissa giggled, walking past them. "We all know how this conversation ends!"

Chrom, who had quite happily been wolfing down crackers and tepid water, adopted a surly expression.

Lissa lifted the flap of the tent, after sticking out her tongue at Chrom, to see Frederick knelt in one corner.

"Ah hah!" She beamed, "there you are, Frederick!"

He turned to face her, looking anything but welcoming.

"Geez," she pouted, "why the grumpy face?"

"I fear this is the only face I have, milady." He sighed, getting up to his feet, "was there something you needed?"

She cocked her head, inquisitively eyeing his corner. "What are you doing back here?"

Frederick turned to his corner, and then back to the princess.

"Inspecting the contents of our armoury, for worn or damaged equipment."

Lissa approached him, smiling eagerly. "Oooh! I'll help."

Frederick shook his head.

"I cannot allow that. You could cut yourself, or accidentally-"

Lissa made a noise of indignation, folding her arms. "Do you think I'm an idiot?! Honestly, Frederick!"

He shook his head, lips pursed. She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled.

"I think you are a princess, who I am duty-bound to keep safe."

She waved off his comment, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, _booooring_."

"Was there something you needed from me?" He asked, having returned to his polishing.

"Oh, no," Lissa replied, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. "I mean- yes, but..." Frederick turned, still polishing, quizzical. "I wanted to ask you a favour..." She admitted, quietly.

"How may I serve you?"

Lissa, fidgeting with her dress, seemed reluctant to answer.

"I want you to train me, like you do the others." She bit her lip, momentarily, and then conceded to tell him the rest anyway. "I'm tired of struggling to keep up with everyone. I wanna hold my own!" Her gaze was defiant and definite, although she was tiny compared to the great knight.

"A fine idea." Frederick began, smiling, "it would be my pleasure to assist you in your training. Though, I must warn you, I am not a gentle teacher."

Lissa spared him a knowing glance, well aware of his strict manner.

"Be certain you want this." He warned her.

"Oh, I am!" She bit back, tone firm.

She turned to look at their tactician, who was slumped by herself on the other side of the tent. "You okay, Eponis?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up, wearily. "Fine, fine." She smiled, sleepily, at the princess.

The tent flap moved again, Chrom peering in. Lissa tugged at Frederick's arm.

"C'mon, you haven't had any dinner." She muttered, pulling him out of the tent in a hurry.

Frederick tried to ascertain that he'd much rather occupy himself with the equipment, and that he'd had plenty to eat, but Lissa was having none of it.

Eponis glanced up at Chrom, watching as he manoeuvred around Frederick and Lissa, but found herself unable to hold his gaze. She looked to her hands, folded in her lap, his footsteps ever closer.

"Good evening," he greeted, tone low, as he sat himself down beside her.

Eponis glanced to her right, smiling mutely. "And to you."

Her side twinged, the poor bandaging her own design. The small nap she'd woken from hadn't helped matters.

"You aren't sulking in here, are you? I was-" He tried to conceal his worry, "t-that is, even Vaike was asking about you." He chortled, nervously.

Eponis smiled, trying not to flinch. The urge to scratch at her wound was awfully loud, and if she agitated it she'd be in need of Lissa's staff.

"Well, that was very sweet of him." Her words were gentle, and she smiled at Chrom. Well, as best she could.

He scrubbed at his face, tired. Surely, his crown lied heavily on his brow.

She combed her fingers through her hair, the pale green tangle it had become. She'd felt like an idiot, not having her wound healed earlier, but she'd only noticed it later on. If she'd bothered Lissa at this hour, then she'd only be met with reprobate glaring and wagging of fingers. Besides, the vulneraries had been helpful; it was nought more than a congealed patch.

Chrom glanced at her, and there was a gleam of worry in his eyes. Royal blue, in shade- how very fitting.

"You should have Lissa look at that." He muttered, quietly.

The colour drained from Eponis' already pale face. Her hand, instinctively, clutched at her side.

She frowned at him, in question, unable to sound out her consternation.

Chrom puffed out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You've been knocking back vulneraries like cheap ale, and you've barely spoken all afternoon. Is it bad?"

Eponis, red-handed, didn't have anything to say. Gods, but she was embarrassed. She'd expected it to heal by the morning, and the whole affair would simply have blown over. But now she just felt foolish.

Chrom knelt closer to her, expression soft.

"May I see?"

She opened her cloak with a shaky hand, her shirt darkened with congealing blood.

Chrom inhaled, sharply. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's partly healed. There was no point in botheri-"

"There was _every _point in bothering us!" He stressed, worried. She dropped her head, apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Chrom. I am." She glanced up at him, brown eyes glazed from fatigue. There was a shameful red tint to her cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset you."

He shook his head, smiling softly, and she relaxed somewhat.

The prince, running his fingers erroneously through his dark blue hair, gave her a warm smile.

"Well, I should atone for my words last night." He amended, and he shuffled next to her.

He felt it would be bad form to not keep her company; there was laughter and warmth outside, but she didn't seem too eager to venture out. He couldn't revel in it, and leave her here alone.

"I didn't mean to upset you, either." Eponis replied, rubbing at her eyes.

There was a small pause, the quiet mutterings around the campfire audible. She glanced at him, and smiled.

"Does that make us even?"

Chrom laughed, gently. "I believe it does."

* * *

"Ah, a Ylissean nobleman." The dark-skinned warrior nodded blithely, unimpressed. "Excuse me if I don't bow, _sir_."

Marth had expected such hostility from Basilio, but was determined nonetheless.

"Please, Khan Basilio, I must implore you-"

"There's nothing you can offer me, boy. Nothing." Basilio replied, gruffly.

Marth deliberated. The tournament was his only shot. The West Khan's champion was ruthless, but he had to relegate him from the tournament. Marth had to intervene; had to take his chances.

"Not even if I were to offer you my sword, in the upcoming tournament?" He asked, unreadable from behind his mask.

Basilio, ripping apart a leg of chicken, considered the offer.

A myrmidon scoffed, chugging at his ale.

That was him. From across the room, despite the warm, vague glow of the candlelight, Marth could see his disdain.

Basilio was silent.

"Let me fight for you. Not only will Ylisse repay you, but a great deal of Plegia's wealth will fall to you- if our joined forces should suceed."

"Gangrel?" He spluttered, surprised. "You expect me to put the lives of my men, and my chance to remain the Reigning Khan, at stake? For some ridiculous assault against Gangrel?!" There was a murderous glint to his eyes, the bald-headed warrior every bit as frightening as Marth had heard.

"Khan Basilio, please, listen-"

"You're wasting your breath, lad!" He shouted, slamming his tankard on the table. "Besides, why on earth would I take your steel?"

He studied the youth, unimpressed and vehement.

Marth glanced to the myrmidon, glaring from his corner. He had to. For Ylisse. There was no other way, and no middle ground.

"Let me face your champion."

Basilio coughed, laughing, despite his mouthful of food. He chewed, grinning. "Fight Lon'qu?! I had my suspicions, but you really are a lunatic!" He guffawed, his fellow Feroxi warriors joining in.

Marth, swallowing his shame, remained obstinate.

"Yes."

Basilio regarded him, carefully.

"Subsequent to my win, I would like to have a place in the tournament."

Basilio laughed again, visible eye crinkling with mirth. "You've got guts, lad. I admire that." His tone became serious. "Very well. If a fight is what you want, then who am I to deny you?"

He turned to his champion. "Lon'qu! You hear that?"

He nodded, mutely.

Basilio gestured to the room, his other warriors rescinding to the walls. "Your arena, noble sir!"

Stood out of the light, shady and muttering between themselves, the warriors began to trade coin.

Lon'qu came striding down the steps, sword in hand. Marth, poised, unsheathed his own.

They stood still for some time, both weighing up the other.

Lon'qu's eyes were narrowed and cold, his teeth perpetually gritted. Like he'd known nothing other than to be a warrior, even in infancy. His manner and speech was made of coarse linen, not chambray.

Marth assumed a better posture, eyes keen.

And then, swiftly, the myrmidon came surging forwards.

Marth parried the blow, swinging in one of his own.

Lon'qu dodged, glaring at him.

Their battle became a flurry of crossed swords and quiet grunts, each exceptionally capable. The low hubbub of the other Feroxi was a constant hum underneath the clink of metal.

Marth gave a shout, pushing Lon'qu back.

He swung again, stabbing forwards, but was too slow.

Lon'qu dodged and gave a low sting of his own.

Marth dived backwards, rolling over the stone floor. He fell hard, punishing his shoulder. But he had to carry on. He couldn't concede.

Panting, getting to their feet, they had a brief moment of respite.

Some coins were exchanged, some bets rescinded. Basilio, seated at the head of the room, was up on his feet, eye on the fight.

The both of them, spoiling for their own profit, came running for the other again.

They parried and swung, both invariably focused.

With particularly harsh stab and a shout, both blades crossed again.

The new proximity was dangerous and unbidden, both panting harshly, struggling to keep the other's blade still.

Lon'qu, squinting, observed his challenger.

Through his mask, the blues of his eyes were shiny against the candlelight. Marth's eyes were narrowed, eyelashes fluttering, lips pursed in his struggle.

Lon'qu seemed to realise, blades forced in their lock, grip sweaty.

And then, slowly, his face began to fall.

He stuttered, confused.

Marth, sensing the opportunity, shoved him back with his blade; Lon'qu staggering backwards. Stabbing forwards, determined, Marth lunged again.

In his confusion, Lon'qu allowed his blade to be cast from him, falling to the stone floor. He winced, head dully throbbing from the blow, but couldn't move to look.

Marth's blade was at his throat.

He swallowed, bested.

Slowly, collectively, the other Feroxi began to applaud from their dark corners of the room. Basilio, slumped in his chair, was at the least dumbfounded.

Marth offered his hand, helping the myrmidon to his feet.

Lon'qu, despite his undoing, had reverted to his perpetual glare. He had trouble shaking Marth's hand, perhaps abhorred by being taken down a notch.

Basilio, continuing to drink as if no event had passed, spoke up again.

"Well, well, Prince King!" He laughed, regarding Lon'qu for a moment.

His finest, his champion, had been splayed on the floor with a blade to his throat. It begged belief.

"You've beaten my champion. And, as such, earned a place at my table." He slapped the space next to him, the wood giving a dull reply.

Marth smiled (however scantily), and bowed politely. "My thanks, Khan Basilio. But perhaps we may discuss my earlier ter-"

"Nonsense!" Basilio leered, shaking his head, "no negotiations, no discussions, no terms, no nothing. Not until you've assured my place as Reigning Khan."

"Of course." Marth bowed his head, apologetic, "I didn't mean to seem so indulgent. My apologies."

Basilio made to remedy Marth's disdain, but Lon'qu's hand was upon his shoulder. Allowing his confidence, Basilio lent his ear, brow creased.

Lon'qu, silent if not for the barely audible baritone, said his piece quickly, words efficient and tart.

The West Khan, obviously amused, let out another roaring laugh. For good measure, he slammed the table with a fist, mirthful.

The myrmidon was obviously not amused, his whispers no matter of jest. His aversion was no matter of jest, either, although it had become such through the years.

He caught Marth's eye, briefly, his consternation broiling.

Marth, however cacographic, felt his stomach lurch with unease.

He knew.

* * *

The next morning, Eponis woke to a gaggle at the tent's flap, those not already outside choosing to peer out of the sides of the entrance instead.

She rubbed at her eyes, shoving on her boots. Leaving them unlaced, yawning against the back of her hand, she approached the entrance.

Stahl, only in some of his armour, was one of the peering Shepherds. Eponis, politely, made her way past them, holding her cloak closed because of the breeze.

"Well, what do we have here?" She mumbled, pacing over to Lissa.

"Hey, is that what I think it is?" She asked her brother, who was a little way ahead.

The princess noticed Eponis, giving her a quick smile in greeting.

Before them, nickering sadly, was the object of everyone's attention.

"It's a pegasus, all right." Chrom said, approaching it cautiously. "I think it's hurt. Let's just have a look here..." He neared it, holding a hand out towards it.

It reared up: whinnying loudly.

"Whoa! Down, girl! Easy there!" Chrom implored the beast, hand thrown up in front of him.

"Captain, one moment!" Sumia appeared from the tent, having heard the commotion. She was still fussing with the band of pearls in her hair, having only had time to fix one side. She stared- wide eyed and full of awe- at the pegasus.

Not looking at where she was putting her feet, Sumia, (as per usual), ended up flat on her face.

Lissa quickly helped her up.

"Sumia!" Chrom called, thankful to see her back on her feet. "Not those boots of yours?"

Sumia simpered, wincing as she wiggled her foot, her ankle smarting something terrible. "No! I mean, yes! I mean..." She broke off, sighing.

"Well, come no closer. The beast is crazed!" Chrom warned her, but Sumia didn't seem so fearful.

"No, Captain, it's okay." She assured him, moving closer. She smiled, anxiously, nearing the pegasus. "Shh... easy now, girl. I won't hurt you." Her voice, soothing and soft, seemed to have a pleasant effect on the beast. It stopped braying, calmed, as Sumia patted it gently.

"Shhh... it's okay..." She told it, almost grinning from ear to ear. Such a beautiful creature, and here she was, petting it.

It was exhilarating, wonderful.

"That's incredible, Sumia!" Lissa gasped, amazed.

"I've never seen anything like it." Chrom muttered, watching on.

"Oh, it's... it's nothing, really." Sumia said, softly, cheeks burning hot pink from the praise. "I just have a way with animals, I guess."

"I should say so!" Chrom replied, with a small chuckle.

"I... I don't think she's ready to go on ahead, though. It could be her hoof, or her wing... or even both!" She hugged it, gently, face glum. "I'll dress her wounds, and catch up as soon as we're able."

"We can make time to wait for you." Chrom assured her, but Sumia declined.

"Thank you, Captain. But I can manage." She stroked its mane, carefully. There was no way to tell _where_ she was hurt, at least for the time being.

"Every moment is precious when all of Ylisse is in danger." She said, which seemed to spur Chrom's decision.

"Right, then. Be safe, Sumia."

She saluted him, smiling. "As you command, sir!"

The rest of the morning was spent clearing up most of the camp, and soon after the Shepherds (bar Sumia) were marching through the mountain range, towards Ferox. There was a chill in the air, snowy peaks in the near distance, and it was obvious that the weather wasn't going to agree with them.

But as disheartening and ominous as their journey was, they were determined to get there within the week.

If not for the biting cold, awful rations, or speak of bandits- it was because of Ylisse.

* * *

Despite some fragile calculations, and frequent stops both to hopefully let Sumia catch up and to attend to some of the more fragile Shepherds, within a few days Fort Ferox was no longer a distant goal, and was now a tenebrous reality on the road before them.

The road itself, disguised by snow, had been a slow and uncertain one.

"There it is!" Chrom shouted, and some of the others jeered heartily.

Lissa, nose pink and sore from the freezing winds, wasn't any happier for their progress.

"F-F-Frebberick!" She sniffed, glancing up at him. She sniffled, and then sneezed. "I'm f-f-freebing!"

"Stand beside my horse, milady." He told her. Lissa, shuddering, moved closer. "She'll shelter you from the wind."

"So, this is the fortress?" Eponis asked Chrom; shivering herself despite her cloak. The snow was heavy and thick, most of the Shepherds red-faced and disconsolate.

"Yes, the Longfort." Chrom replied, occasional shudders giving him away, despite his constant will to press on. "It stretches along the border of Ylisse and Regna Ferox."

Frederick, his horse trotting dully through the snow, chimed in. "The Khans that rule Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners." His eyes were on the fort ahead, expression grim. "Still, don't mistake a lack of hospitality for open hostility. This simply calls for a bit of diplomacy."

Chrom, sharing an irresolute look with Eponis, seemed determined (despite Frederick's words).

"Negotiation's not my strong suit, but I'll do my best."

Trudging through the snow, the tall walls were soon upon them, the Shepherds small and insignificant compared to the sturdy portcullis, hemmed in by the dense woodland.

"Remember, everyone: your actions here reflect back upon Ylisse." Chrom reminded them.

It was near impossible to make out any sort of life from the fort, their position forcing them into a disadvantage. Frederick, ever wary, was quick to notice the appearance of Feroxi soldiers, stationed at the parapets either side of the portcullis. They glared down at the foreigners, suspicious. Archers, keeping a lookout from a number of towers, began to assume their formation along the outer ramparts, bows at the ready.

"Trouble in the wind, milord!" Frederick shouted through the howling winds, tone grave, "the Feroxi Guard are mobilising."

"What?!" The prince shouted back, hand at his mouth. "Why?"

"Who can say?" Frederick asked, rhetorically, "but they look ready to let fly at a moment's notice."

Frederick addressed the others. "We'd best prepare for combat, just to be safe."

Fingers fumbled for their weaponry, numb from the cold, the sounds of unsheathed swords absolute. High above them, watching from the battlements, was the cutting glare of a Feroxi officer.

"Halt!" She shouted, approaching the stone ramparts. "Who goes there?!"

Chrom, shouting through the wind, tried to sound principled. "In the name of House Ylisse, I seek an audience with the khans!"

The woman threw up a hand in warning, tone harsh. "Not another step, my bold lad!"

From the parapets, a line of lances appeared, all aimed at the Shepherds.

"I've lancers at the ready!"

That enough was bad news, not to mention the squadron of archers and the other warriors mobilising from within the fort. Frederick, sensing that things were taking a turn for the worst, tried to implore her.

"Hold, milady!"

She lowered her hand, archers showing some repose.

"We are not your enemy! Exalt Emmeryn herself sent us, to discuss matters of mutual interest."

The woman, resolute and firm, shouted down again. "My only interest is keeping you out of Regna Ferox, brigand!"

Frederick, outraged, spluttered through his consternation. "_B-Brigand!?_ Now see here-"

She called up her soldiers once again, and Frederick immediately went quiet.

The blonde, stare icy, regarded them with an attritional disgust. "You think you are the first '_Ylisseans_' to try and cross our border?" Her voice was venomous, words spat. "I have the authority to fell such imposters where they stand."

Frederick, despite the threat, could not contain his chagrin. "How _dare _you! You are in the presence of Prince Chrom, the Exalt's own blood!"

She laughed, grisly, humoured by their audacity.

"Ha! Yes, indeed- and I'm the Queen of Valm!" She sneered, laughing to the frosty winds. "You do realise impersonating royalty is a capital offence, yes?"

She regarded the Shepherds, cruelly, grip firm around her javelin.

"Perhaps we should settle this the Feroxi way." The captain muttered, mostly to herself.

She leant over, eyes boring into Chrom's despite the distance.

"You claim to be the Prince of Ylisse?" She shouted, "then prove it on the battlefield! Face the Feroxi might, and the talent of Captain Raimi's guard!"

Chrom, uncertain, found Falchion felt unusually heavy. Tough to wield.

Enamoured with guilt, he sighed.

"Emmeryn won't like this... not at all..."

Fearing that they could do no worse, Chrom once again implored her to see reason. "Please, good lady! If you'd just listen-"

"I've heard quite enough!" She slammed her hand on the battlement, teeth gritted. "Attack!"

The lancers, immediate to respond, threw down a barrage of lances. Chrom, scarily focused in the fire, threw up his arm instinctively.

Something- someone- grabbed him moments before they came to land, hauling him up into the air.

"S-Sumia!" Chrom exclaimed, the pegasus knight trying her best to hold onto his arm. She struggled with him, one-handedly, the prince perilously close to falling.

Sumia, quickly, let go of the reins: pulling him up behind her.

"Better hold on tight, Captain!"

Chrom spluttered, trying to find some purchase. It went without saying that he ought to hold on. Experimentally, gingerly, he glanced down at the floor, (and quickly regretted it).

Sumia guided the pegasus competently, the mount flying back over the dense forest, way above the Longfort. She grimaced. "Could get bumpy..."

"R-Right..." Chrom replied, staring wide-eyed at the expansive ground below. Sumia circled, fearful of the archers lining the ramparts, before they rejoined the other Shepherds.

Chrom, although thankful, was quick to get back on stable ground.

"Oh, Captain!" Sumia sighed, relaxing, "I'm so relieved I made it in time!"

"That goes double for me, Sumia!" Chrom retorted, catching his breath. "And this," he nodded to the beast, "is this the same ornery pegasus we met on the road?"

Sumia, fondly, stroked its mane.

"Oh, she's a sweetheart, isn't she?" She smiled, "once you really get to know her!"

"Well, many thanks to you both."

Lissa tittered, "I think the pegasus is blushing!"

Frederick, lance at the ready, didn't see the humour in it. "And I think we had all best focus on the situation at hand!"

"All right." Chrom, Falchion in hand, nodded firmly. "The Feroxi way it is!"

He looked to his tactician, who was scouring the area.

"Eponis?"

She muttered under her breath, eyes flitting from the forest to each Shepherd, her breath visible clouds. She looked to Chrom.

"We're at a disadvantage, in every sense of the word." Her tone was bleak and morose. "If we're not careful they'll have us surrounded. So we need to push them back, attacking from both sides. We have to stay within the trees, keep some defence, and force them to attack singularly. We'll take the fort in two groups."

Ahead, poised and primed despite the cold, were a small deploy of archers.

"Sumia, you go with Frederick, Vaike, and Miriel. I don't want you anywhere near those archers." She regarded Chrom and Sully. "If Lissa stays out of range, and Stahl keeps an eye out, us three will lead the left assault."

The Shepherds began their separate ways, keeping to the forest and away from enemy eyes, as their tactician had asked.

Chrom, uneasy, disliked the waxen canopy.

"They could be anywhere," he muttered, eyes sharp, "I feel like I'm being watched..."

Sully and Eponis, assuming Chrom was taking the lead, held back as a second line of attack.

Ahead of them, skirting close to the Longfort, came a voice. "Um, sir? … Sir! Right here, sir!"

Chrom, spooked, held out Falchion. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"I'm standing in plain sight, sir." Kellam said, despondently. "Right h-" Chrom, bumping into him, gave a shout. "_Bwaaah!_" He turned to face the knight and visibly relaxed, panting. "Oh! I-Is that you, Kellam? When did you arrive?"

"... The same time as you. I've been with you all along." Kellam sported a frown, voice wavering with uncertainty. "Er, I _am_ still a Shepherd, right?" He laughed, nervously. "It's quite the honour, after all. I'd hate to lose it. Sometimes I-"

"Of course, Kellam. Forgive me." The prince apologised, trudging through the snow with Kellam in tow. "You're just so... quiet. I completely-"

"Quite all right, sir, quite all right." Kellam assured him, clanking with each step. It was a wonder that they hadn't been leapt upon. "I've been told I'm easy to miss."

He seemed to take that fact in good humour, though.

Chrom, edgy still, kept his eyes on the other two. They were both quiet, close to the clearing of the dense woodland.

"At least the Feroxi didn't find you." He said to Kellam, as they continued ahead.

The knight smiled, bemused. "I've been calling to you and waving my arms for several minutes... I don't think they've so much as glanced this way!"

Chrom raised a brow, chuckling briskly. "You almost sound disappointed."

Kellam made to speak again (rather content, considering someone was paying him attention), but there was a pained shout from behind them.

Eponis, in thanks for her scouting, had been rewarded with an arrow to the thigh. The archer's shot, as well as her squeal, had called attention to the other soldiers on the western perimeter.

Seeing no reason to hold back, Sully came charging out of the copse. Eponis, hands leaving her wound, quickly began to mutter her spell.

Joining the fray in the slapdash excuse of an ambush, Kellam came lumbering forwards, hurling a javelin.

On the other side of the fort, in a similar fashion, Miriel and Vaike kept close together, leading their assault with Frederick.

Sully and Eponis made quick work of the enemy archers, the soldier running for Kellam in a rage. His lance barely scratched the knight's armour, and before he could try again, Chrom had stabbed him.

He went for his lower torso, sparing him. They'd come here as diplomats, peaceful Ylissean spokespeople, and he wasn't about to destroy that image with unruly murdering.

Another archer, keeping his distance, sent an arrow sailing for Kellam. It bounced pathetically from his armour, and Sully quickly slashed at him, securing their side of the fort.

As the archer fell, coughing up blood, a key fell from his pocket.

"That makes quick work of the doors." Eponis said as she collected it, the cold metal biting against her hand. "As long as the others follow suit, we can band together on the upper level. That way we'll be the ones cornering them."

Chrom nodded, smiling, somewhat impressed. They'd been outnumbered and gradually cornered, vastly disadvantaged, and she'd completely turned it around.

True, they weren't out of the predicament just yet, but it was still a knowledgeable feat.

On the other side of the fort, Vaike leapt for a soldier, a blast of fire from Miriel finishing him off. He'd a few scratches, minor wounds, but nothing to worry about. And nothing bad enough for Stahl to let Lissa go on ahead.

Frederick went for another, his glancing blow enough of a window for Sumia to strike.

A javelin barely missed Vaike, Miriel pulling him aside. "Open your eyes, you fool!" She hissed, but Vaike shrugged off her reprobate glare and ran forwards for his kill.

He struck, barely, bowling out of the way soon after.

Realising he was outnumbered, the soldier noticed Lissa some way ahead.

She yelped, afraid, but had no reason to be. Stahl, astride his steed, was comparatively faster, and had struck him down with ease.

Safe for the moment, Lissa ran for Vaike, healing his wounds.

"The others are approaching the fort!" Stahl called, catching up to them. "The rest of the Feroxi are inside, and they haven't approached the portcullis. I think we've scared them off."

"Well, we better press on. Lissa, stay close." Frederick replied, approaching the east entrance.

On both sides, opening both doors, the Shepherds were a concentrated force.

The remaining Feroxi were scattered along the upper battlement, the nearest running for the doors.

Eponis was leading her side, and a Feroxi knight was the first to greet them. She spared a smile, his weakness obvious. Her sword would be useless against his lance, but her magic was another game entirely.

Unfortunately, considering the time it took to charge her spell, he managed to get in a hit before she managed to bring him down.

The others, close behind, spilled out alongside her.

Across the way, apprehending their own opponents, she could see the others.

In a last attempt to keep them back, the remaining Feroxi pitted themselves against the Shepherds. Flung spells and a turbulent cacophony of shouts and clashing steel were all that greeted the mountainous air.

And soon enough, they were upon the commander.

Raimi, stern-faced and resolute until the end, was immoveable.

Chrom and Eponis approached her, and she smiled grimly.

"Let our battle sound out the truth of your words!" She drummed her javelin against her shield, gesture confident, smug.

Eponis struck, Raimi wincing as she staggered to her knees. She threw a javelin, deftly, managing to wound the tactician. Chrom turned to her, briefly, but knew that he had to continue.

Surging forwards with Falchion, he gave a shallow stab to her thigh, through the metaphoric and literal chink in her armour.

She fell to her knees, recoiling.

Despite wounding Eponis, she was at the mercy of Chrom, and the other Shepherds were closing ranks fast.

She knew his sword, the brand on his arm, and his fighting had proven his claims. Raimi held up her hands, javelin clattering to the ground.

"I yield!" She wheezed and struggled, wincing. "Your claims were... true..."

There was a sweep of relief as she surrendered, the Shepherds and Feroxi ceasing at once. Chrom, ever the diplomat, helped the captain to her feet.

Limping somewhat due to her injury, she did her best to bow. "A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom. I truly took you for brigand impostors." She stooped, penitent. "But no frauds could ever wage a battle as you just have! I will send word of your arrival to the capital, and escort you there, personally."

Chrom, politely, bowed his head.

"That would be most appreciated, thank you."

With a small syndicate of fellow Feroxi warriors, she hobbled back into the fort. She turned, calling over her shoulder.

"Tonight, you'll feast with us. At least until we have our arrangements."

Chrom thanked her, ushering his fellow Shepherds to follow suit.

"Amazing. Her whole demeanour changed..." Eponis said, watching Raimi hobble away.

"In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words. I should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here."

Lissa griped, sighing. "Can we get going, Chrom?!"

He laughed, nodding at her.

Her pigtails were dusted with snow, her cheeks raw red, arms folded over her chest.

"Yes, it's not getting any warmer."

He turned to his tactician, offering his shoulder to her. "Are you alright, Eponis?"

"Just a scratch." She told him, full lips wound in a smile.

He raised his eyebrows, smirking.

"None of this again. You'll take my shoulder, or I'll carry you in."

She scoffed, incredulous, and began to laugh. She took his hand, slinging her arm around his neck; wobbly on her feet.

He steadied her, concerned.

"I'm okay!" She exclaimed, smiling.

Chrom, however, wasn't having a word of it.

He leant down to pick her up, and she began to splutter and protest. "

Chrom, I'm fine! Honestly! You don't need to-" Her grousing was cut short as he hoisted her up over his shoulder, and she clouted him on his back, complaining.

"Are you serious?! I'm fine, I'll walk!"

He laughed, carrying her inside, and eventually she accepted her predicament with little more than a frown.

Behind them, tending to the injured Feroxi and Shepherds as they went, Lissa and Frederick shared a sophic, knowing look.

* * *

Miriel, listless and unimpressed with the lumbering, barbaric Feroxi warriors, had taken to a quieter corner of the hall.

With ale on his breath, grinning, Vaike flung an arm around her shoulders.

"Ah, Vaike." She greeted him, expression sour and acrid.

He smiled at her.

"Heya, Miriel!" He glanced at her, pointedly, "so did you watch me fight, or what?"

She nodded, astute. "Oh, indeed. The effect of war cries on the psychology of the enemy was a field of research I hadn't before thought to pursue." She adjusted her glasses, and Vaike nodded along without listening. "A most fascinating field, I must elucidate. Although I suppose there is always the consideration of gainsay, as in any territory of study."

He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he pulled her closer, Miriel aloof and somewhat crushed. "But what about me? What about the Vaike?!"

She pursed her lips, trying to prise herself free.

"I observed the details of your moves, obviously, but not from the perspective of the foe. Perhaps an analogy would be helpful here..." She considered, choosing a suitable explanation for someone of his caliber. "... So if we were to assume that you are a planet, and the enemy is the sun, th-"

"Hey, hey, wait!" He interrupted, sloshing some of his ale and forgetting about it with a drunken abandon, "wait, wait wait! _I_ wanna be the sun!"

"But the sun does not travel around planets. Rather, planets spin around the sun. Or, so It was postulated in my mother's book. It has yet to be proven."

"You sure it's not your head spinnin'?" He asked, and then laughed at his own joke. The obnoxious bray to his laugh had Miriel reverting to her sour-faced façade. "I don't see this ground going any place, Miriel..."

She accepted his rebuttal, however inebriated he may have been.

"Alas, we cannot sense this motion, making the theory intuitively difficult."

Vaike, having had enough of scientific theories and Miriel's intelligent spiel, patted her shoulder heartily.

"All right, _sure_. The ground's spinnin'. Just like when I swing my weapon, yeah?"

"Yes." She allowed herself a miniature smile, to see that he was at least listening to her. "This generates the centripetal force we discussed the other day."

She smiled a little wider, ostensibly patting the hand slung over her shoulder. "I'm glad we had this conversation. It has helped me clarify my thoughts on the subject."

She considered, glancing at him best as she could. "Would you mind terribly if we continued our discussions? For... research purposes?"

Vaike nodded, slurping from his tankard.

"You mean chat as friends? Er, well, sure." He tried to contain his incredulity, but found that most of it escaped into his tone of voice, "after all, we have so much in..." He gestured blankly, "uh... common?"

Miriel, tickled pink, allowed herself a paltry giggle.

Vaike, with a lack of better sentiment; joined in.

"You guys seen Kellam?" Sully asked, having left her syndicate of Feroxi warriors.

It was all jeering and drinking and shouting, along with shoving and laughing at each other with an astute brand of good-hearted vigor. They were unruly and tough, and Sully had never felt so at home.

Miriel and Vaike parted suddenly, as if apprehended. They both replied with flustered and brisk 'not at all's.

She thanked them (ignoring their odd behaviour) and turned her gaze to the rest of the room.

Her eyes landed on him, and she adopted a gristly smirk. Oh boy, was he in for it.

"Kellam?!" She called, marching over to him. Kellam, immediately, took on the expression of an apprehended woodland creature. "Hey, Kellam!" She called again, glaring as she closed the distance.

Drawn into himself, tankard appearing miniature in his heavily-armoured hands, Kellam meekly replied. "...Yes?"

Sully, although it may have been the ale, was red in the face. She pointed an accusative finger at him, causing Kellam to shrink away as best he could.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, pipsqueak!" She wagged her finger, glaring with glassy eyes. "Don't think I didn't see you today, in the fort. Secretly watching my back!"

Kellam, flustered, began to mutter his protest. "Um, I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, Sully... I was just fighting alongside y-"

"Well knock it the hell off!" She barked, scowling. "_I'm_ the one who does the protectin' around here, got it?!"

She spared him a disgusted look, usually one she saved for chauvinistic encounters.

"I don't need some tiny man in a huge suit of armour watching out for me, alright?!"

"B-B-But..." He began, only to be shot down again.

"You think I need extra protection? That it?" She glared, obstinate and pouting somewhat, "you think I'm frail and weak? Huh?!"

She jabbed at him, and he stumbled back, wedged between her and the wall.

"You think you can be my gallant knight in shiny, oversized armour?" Kellam, wincing from her anger, held up his hands in defence.

"I wasn't giving you special treatment, Sully! Honest! I just like protecting people!"

She glowered, standing back. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"I'll say this once, pipsqueak: don't ever pull that crap again!"

He nodded, hurriedly, a quick succession of nervous little shakes.

"Are we clear now?" She asked, raising a brow in question. "Words sank in?"

Kellam nodded, meekly.

Sully regarded him, contemplating him through her ale-glazed eyes.

"Yeah? 'Cause if we are, I'm done. I've got better things to do than yell at you, tin man."

Kellam nodded, agreeing with her.

"O-Of course you do! I mean..." He began, trying to lighten their tryst. But, by this time, she'd already started staggering back to her Feroxi cohorts.

"Um, well... bye!" He tried, but she didn't hear him.

On her way back, Sully stumbled into Vaike, and they fell about themselves in a fit of laughter.

The entire room, despite the earlier fighting and discrepancy, was jovial and warm. The pit in the middle of the tables was crackling and throwing up a wonderful golden glow, warm and homely compared to the freezing winds outside.

Lissa, in particular, was so pleased that bear wasn't on the menu that she'd torn apart whatever she'd been presented with some sort of reckless abandon.

Frederick, seated next to her, couldn't help but find it humorous. He noted, to his left, the noble archer polishing a dagger.

Virion smiled fondly at the blade, sweeping it over with a ornately embroidered handkerchief.

He initiated conversation lightly, his voice low out of a gentle consideration. The room's hubbub was capped by the lull of the fire, the warmth, and the food. "That's quite the handsome blade you carry, Virion."

The archer, lifting his head, replied with a mellow smile. "Ah!" He held it up, allowing the fire to cast a soft glow on its sharp edges. "You've a discerning eye, Frederick." He nodded gently, as if decided. "Elegant... Sophisticated... A perfect match for its owner! Why, it's almost-"

"The hilt bears the sigil of House Claive." Frederick interrupted, briskly.

"Yes," Virion conceded, astutely sour, "but you interrupted me."

Frederick smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Apologies... but it's been troubling me for some time now."

He turned on the bench, to face him better. He regarded the dagger, gaze questioning. "Just _how is it, _that you came to hold a dagger from one of Ylisse's high noble houses?"

Virion chortled, nodding. His arduous candor was somewhat smug. Although, smug was a given with Virion. "I enjoyed a brief but fruitful collaboration with the Claives once upon a time. Well, specifically with one young and _very_ beautiful Claive..."

He ran a finger over the hilt, gaze fond. "She gave me this blade as a token of our everlasting..."

He paused, considering. Perhaps it was better to use gentler terms, especially in Frederick's company.

"..._friendship_."

"I see." The great knight regarded him shrewdly. "And when exactly did you find the time to foster such a bond?"

Virion, once again tickled by his words, chortled softly. "Ah! My dear, naïve Frederick." He sighed, glancing at him, "not all bonds take equal time to form, you know! Some are forged in a lifetime, while others spring to life in a moment."

He paused again, to consider some gentility. Perhaps due to his smug ardor, Virion decided to throw gentility out of the picture. " ...others still take but one very good night."

Frederick regarded him silently, staring as he took a taste of ale. He seemed, at least to Virion, a tad envious. Certainly, he didn't look impressed.

"Oh, please! Spare me the pious air!" He lowered his tone, inertly snobbish. "But... is that yet a hint of _envy_ I see, as well?"

Frederick grimaced at him, and Virion chortled- bemused.

"Well, permit me to explain..." He cleared his throat, grand in gesture despite his small audience. "It is my avocation to grant noble ladies a brief respite from their dreary lives. And I know of no better way to do so than by romance's sweet perfume."

He caught sight of Frederick's grim glare, and assured him, "but I always acted the gentleman! No harm befell their honour, or reputation."

Frederick let out a brisk laugh, nodding as if Virion's words were some elaborate joke.

"Oh, that was never my concern. Ylisse's noble houses are built of sturdier stuff than one dandy's escapades can shake."

He turned, briefly, to the fire- returning to his ale. Virion, at once thrust from his pedestal, gave a nervous chuckle.

"Tell me, sir." He began, exhaling forlornly, "do you always smile so as you twist the blade in a fellow's gut?"

Frederick merely smiled.

Virion, uneasy and offended, spoke with a flustered simplicity.

"Yes, well. You wondered at the history of my blade, and now curiosity is slaked." He began to rise from his chair, seeking more amiable company. "If that's quite all, this _dandy_ shall leave you to savour your _unshakeable honour_."

And with that, he left.

Frederick pondered, not at all perturbed, watching the fire as it trembled and crackled. "... Avocation,he says. Heh. Quite the hobby."

He then remembered that Lissa was beside him, and he changed his tune.

"Yet I bet he has made many other powerful allies through such trysts."

He gazed into his tankard, swirling the depths of it. "Dandy or no, the man is sly. Methinks he merits watching."

Lissa, who had discreetly eavesdropped on the entire affair, rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't you ever lighten up, Frederick?"

He smiled at her, gently.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

She tittered, her pigtails bobbing as she went. "Quite the hobby, huh?"

Frederick's cheeks burned crimson, but he remained surly. He cleared his throat, running a haphazard hand through his brown hair. "I was merely admiring the man's dedication to such a meaningless and distasteful task. Can you begrudge me that, Lissa?"

Lissa eyed him, incredulously. She opened her mouth, clever reply on her tongue, when a hand clapped her on the shoulder- she jumped and gave a quiet yelp.

Vaike, although having incited conversation, was glancing above her.

"Ogre's teeth! Where in blue blazes has Chrom gone to?!" He glanced down, as if finally noticing the princess. "Say, Lissa! You ain't seen that brother of yours skulkin' around, have ya?"

She tittered again, smirking. "If I had, I wouldn't tell _you!" _

Vaike huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, come on! It's nothin' serious!" He glanced at her, deliberately poignant, "why ya gotta take his side all the time?"

Lissa, reprobate, folded her arms with a defiant 'hmph!'.

"Because he's my brother. And I know you just want to hit him with something!" She muttered, quietly, in afterthought, "Gods, you're like children, the both of you."

Vaike shrugged, sighing. He scratched at his head, ruffling his wiry shock of blonde hair. "I could try explainin' it, but ya wouldn't understand." He grimaced, as if understanding the chauvinistic value to his words. "It's a warrior thing."

Lissa huffed again, eyebrows raised in astonishment.

Vaike's grimace became set as she stood up, puffing herself out.

"More like an _idiot_ thing! You know, there _are_ other ways to communicate!" She rolled her eyes haughtily. "Besides bopping each other on the head with blunt axes, I mean."

Vaike sighed, smiling at her stubborn reprieve. It was all in good jest, he was sure. Then again, you could never tell with royalty.

"Look, Lissa." She raised her eyebrows as only a skeptic could, and then smiled for him to continue. "The Vaike doesn't hate your bro. Heck, I like him!" He shrugged, back-pedalling a little, "most of the time... but we've gotta fight! Fate made us rivals, and who are we to deny fate?"

He added in a gleam of his teeth, the smirk of a complete and utter idiot, and Lissa burst out giggling again.

"Oh, now, that is just absurd." She eyed him, carefully. "So why, exactly, are you '_rivals_'?"

The sarcastic drawl of '_rivals_' didn't go unnoticed by Vaike, and it seemed to shake his response.

"Huh? well, you know..." He broke off, pathetically, and then cleared his throat. "Stuff."

Lissa sighed, but there was some fun in the blues of her eyes. Some amusement, as there often was.

She continued to slate him, in a half-giggled attempt at mock anger.

"No, I don't know! I think you have a grudge against Chrom, and that's all there is to it!"

Vaike spluttered, surprised, and frowned at her.

"A grudge? No way! I respect the man! He's the greatest warrior in the realm! But if ya wanna be the very best, ya gotta beat the very best!"

He stopped, short, and his eyes were wide. There was no smug grin, surely, but then again he'd little to grin about considering what he'd just said.

Lissa, having caught him, let out a languidly humoured laugh.

"Ah-ha!"

Vaike, grimace returning, turned back to her sternly.

"...B-But dont' go tellin' him I said that! If he knew I was praisin' him, I'd never hear the end of it every time we squared off!"

Oh, gods: he was in for a world of pain. Pain, and misery- Oh, where was Miriel when you needed her?

"Don't worry, teach." Lissa said, smiling sweetly (as selectively mischievous young girls tend to do). "I'll keep your little secret."


End file.
